Great Moments in Paper Bag History

lets do this again shall we?

2011-11-03T11:07:00.000-07:00

photo by Katy P

So last weekend was the BIG Cross Crusade Halloween Weekend races in Bend, Oregon. My team, Ironclad, got a house for the weekend and a few hearty partiers/racers, descended on the fair high desert town with massive amounts of cardboard in tow. No, the cardboard wasn't just from the boxes of beer we were bringing with us, it was for our Halloween costumes... CARS! Someone, I'm not quite sure who, thought it would be an epically awesome and a hugely bad idea to dress up as cars. That way in unison, we could cause traffic jams and hog the race course. Needless to say, the idea of moving around in a huge cardboard box while biking, dismounting, carrying your bike over barriers and up staircases is just a dumb idea. So, it seemed perfect for the Cross Crusade.

The several of us participating in the muckery, chose our vehicles. I, a proud Subaru owner, chose a subaru. The idea struck me as amusing in endless ways, A) I wasn't really dressing up, B) but yet I was, C) more or less, I was making fun of myself, and D) SUBARU's are all over the frickin road in Oregon. It's great!

So needless to say, I packed a huge box in my car and spent Saturday night painting my own little subaru as a silver fox. Adding in details like the suby logo, front grill of the 2003, and windows and a little black lab mix in the back seat (much like my own dear sweet Anna). It was really fun in our little Ironclad house, to be spread out in the garage painting and cutting with my teammates while folks, not participating in the costume idea, drank beer inside. I mean, don't get me wrong, we were drinking beer in the garage... but I just kinda smiled when I realized that the scene reminded me of art school. That's what we'd all do when projects were do, gather in a common space, share materials and chit-chat while working tirelessly away. Apparently, this scene was not lost on anyone else as several of my teammates also went to design school and we all shared the same thought... "doesn't this remind you of studio?". Who would have thought that this long after college, you and your friends all gather to work on art projects?

Also amusing about this whole thing, is that you could tell everyone's focus on design based upon how they approached the idea of creating a car. Trevor and Alana, both former architecture students, created highly crafted 3-d cars that either they fit into, or could be places on their race steeds. Myself, a graphic designer, approached the problem from a 2-d perspective. Meaning, I paid attention to graphic details and how the car looked from the front and from the back.

So anyways, after the paint had dried, I shoved the silver suby in the back of my reali-life subaru and set off for the race course. Everything seemed to be going great until right before my race when I put the costume on, I forgot a huge design flaw... I had never actually tried riding my bike with the costume on. I knew that the costume would fit, but I never really thought about little things like tire drag and going up and down hills. Slight major oversight.

bikeportland.org

Not really caring about the "race" part of the race, I signed up in the men's SS category so that my teammates and I could ride our cars together in the same race and cause the most havoc. I started in the back knowing that I wasn't going to be going anywhere any time soon. The first obstacle to clear (aside from the car rubbing on my wheels) was a huge wooden ramp that was set up on the course. Normally, I would be well aware of this going into it, but I had kinda forgotten about the ramp thinking that the stairs would be my biggest challenge to over come. Having said that, I didn't attack the ramp with the speed or intensity needed for a single speed bike... and so halfway up, I just couldn't get my bike going anymore. This meant a speedy dismount from the bike with my costume on (something else I also hadn't really worked on). I managed to stay upright, but sadly the smooth plywood of the ramp at the steep angle did not have any traction. Meaning, myself and my bike and my costume were slowly sliding down the ramp.

The best part about this whole next scene is realizing that this is the place on the course where EVERYONE is watching you. It's in the center, by the beer garden, and everyone can see you. As well, since I waited last to go, all the other racers have passed through this area already which means that everyone has no one to watch but me.

So, this came into play when I heard everyone yelling at me as I slowly slid back down the ramp. "USE YOUR ALL-WHEEL DRIVE" the beer garden yelled. I was able to stop myself from sliding further and pathetically crawled over to the railing of the ramp where I pulled myself to the top. Here, everyone is still watching and heckling. I quickly rearrange my costume, mount my bike and start to head down the other side of the ramp. Which quickly brought about another issue I had slightly overlooked, the fact that when I tilt downwards, so does my costume. So needless to say, as soon as I start to head down I begin to run over the front of my costume. At this point I was pretty sure I was going to endo over the handlebars. I saw my young racing career ending with broken arms and splinters embedded in my face. All I could think was, well... hopefully someone will get this on film.

photos by David M

For whatever reason, be it my quick release duct-tape or the bike tubes I used for suspenders, running over my costume with my front wheel did not cause me to endo... but instead resulted in my costume getting horribly tangled in my bike. I was able to guide my steed and costume down the embankment without crashing, but had to come to rest at the bottom to untangle myself. At this point, I just envisioned the men's B's field flying over the ramp and landing on poor me and my wreckage of a Subaru. Thankfully, some handy bystanders jumped in the course and helped me untangle the mess I had found myself in.

I was able to get the badly damaged but still usable costume back on and set off, once again determined to at least do ONE lap with my costume before it officially bit the dust. So I rode, one hand holding my car up and one hand on the wheel, everyone chanting... "GO SUBARU!!!". Not too long after the ramp debacle, I came across another nemesis I did not plan for... a gravel hill. So once again I was unable to build up the speed I needed for the hill because one hand was holding my costume up, so half-way up the hill I stopped and had to hop off the bike. At this point, I was getting heckled by four men who were just sitting there watching me struggle. I took the car off of me to readjust it and then, by some saving grace of God, a huge gust of wind came and blew my car down the hillside. I watched it roll two or three times, over and over till it hit a shrub and came to rest on it's base. I had no patience left for my car so I took it as a sign it was not to be, said "fuck it, that car was a lemon anyways"... remounted my bike and then rode off into the sunset.

After the race was over (and amazingly, I did not place last!) I went back over to the hillside which served as the final resting spot for my costume. As I approached the hillside, I also noticed a small boy on his little bmx bike was going over there too. I slowed and watched to see what he was doing. When he reached the gravel, he hopped off his bike and sprinted up the hill. Sure enough, he went straight for the silver subaru. He picked it up, put it on, and then raced back down the hill... hopped on his bike and rode off. As he passed he I said to him... "that looks pretty good on you". He said "thanks, I guess that person didn't want their costume anymore". And well, I kinda wanted my costume back... but mainly I just wanted to throw it away. But, seeing this kid ride around, having fun in something I had fun creating, was just about as priceless as anything else. I pretty much considered it well worth my entry fee for a race I had no intent on actually doing well in.

It was a fun time Bend, lets do this again shall we?

(ps: VeloNews even wrote about us and had photos, saying: "The Ironclad racers who sacrificed their race to dress up as huge cardboard cars were a good laugh." And I'm like... that's ME they're talking about!

things that I am looking forward to...

2011-10-21T10:04:00.000-07:00

-snowboarding season

My work agreed once again to pay half of my season pass to Mt. Hood Meadows. Seriously, during the winter and providing that the snow is good, I make it up there at least twice a week.

-going to Vancouver to see Olympic soccer qualifiers

In January the USWNT plus the best squads from around the globe will be in Vancouver BC for qualifiers. It would be nice to get a gang of folks together, rent a house, get the package deal and plan for nothing but awesome times for a week. Total fangirldom without feeling bad that you're geeking out over hot women who just happen to be ridiculously good soccer players.

-maybe snowboarding up in BC

Because I'm not going to New Zealand and spending that money on airfare and everything else, and that time away from work... maybe one time I can actually get my ass up to BC for boarding. It would be great if I could combine that and the soccer trip whilst I'm at it.

-spending more quality time my my dog, Anna

Saturday morning hikes, walks after work, etc.

-spending more time doing design work

Not feeling guilty for going into work hella late and staying till 2am

-spending more time at the gym

Because I like working out at 9pm.

-spending more time on the bike trainer

Because I won't have to quit for dinner or other things

-planning on going to Patagonia

Because I can... and it's on my bucket list and I have the vacation time

-eating spinach salad and boca burgers for dinner

Because I like em. And it's easy after you've been at the gym or going to the gym.

-spending more time at the climbing gym

Because it's winter and you have to play inside sometimes.

-getting a mid-century modern sofa

Because comfortable sofas are overrated.

-going to the movies more

There were a lot of movies that I never went to go see because I figured my s.o. wouldn't like them and wouldn't want to spend the money on them. IE: subtitles.

-reading more

YES!

-playing more banjo

YES!

-working on that book

It takes time, and well... I have time now.

-meeting new people

And not feeling guilty if you kinda like them more than you should.

wherein i talk about fashion and coats and stuff.

2011-10-20T08:56:00.000-07:00

I always feel overwhelmed when I actually want to write a blog on my blogger. As in, I've neglected it for so long (since August at least, and that really wasn't an epic entry) that I must fill my feeble numbered readers in on all the aspects of my life. And, yes... that is a seriously daunting task. In fact, as time has progressed since I started writing blogs and posting random shit on the internets, that I kinda protect certain amounts of my life as I want them to remain private. As in, I will blog the shit out of sport and art things, but when it comes to more personal matters, I'm apt to stay hush. And maybe that's why there have been so few posts? Maybe I've just been wrapped up in personal matters and not willing to overtly share them with the world?

I mean, don't take that the wrong way. Things have been great, better than great really. The skies have been a brighter shade of blue, the birds sing sweeter songs, and all the lights on the road were green. Yeah, I've been busy. We've been busy. Wrapped up in a hectic summer and early fall of bike racing and paddling, shows, appointments, games, etc. I was really looking forward to winter, having it all slow down and things get back to normal. And then well, while wrapped up busy in my own shit... I got a sucker punch to the gut. A left hook that I never saw coming.

It's easy not to blog when things are great. It's hard to keep from blogging when your mind in wrapped up in multiple conversations, memories and thoughts. And, one to never have a best friend that I share all my thoughts and secrets with, I turn to writing to get thoughts out of my head. It's just a way that I process things. Once they are out on paper (as a way of speaking) I can get them out of my head. And what I don't share, I tend to internalize and shut down when under distress. As, I may not really show what's going on... so I'm trying to be better about that (on and off the internets). I'm not going to go into full full disclosure here, once again.. that privacy thing, but hell... life is a bitch sometimes.

So, things have changed for me again. I've always been a pretty solo straight shooter. Very assure of who I am as a person and what I want out of my life. In fact, I'd peg me one of the most self-aware and self assured person I know. Basically, I can imagine that this self-confidence maybe slightly intimidating to others who are not so sure of themselves and where they stand in the world. A few years ago I got into a very deep relationship where I learned (by a lot of trial and error) how to function as a unit. How to not be so independent and self serving, and how to think of someone other than myself and my dog. I'd like to think that I progressed by great leaps and bounds and gave myself fully to the cause. It's funny to think that I never used to hug people, and now I hug my friends all the time.

However, what happens when you invest yourself fully, and fully isn't good enough or not what that other person finally decides they want? I have no regrets about anything, but I realize to a certain extent that there wasn't too much more of me to give. In my closest relationships I am very face value, what you see is what you get. However, at the same time to many people I am very layered, as in I can tell you everything... but at the same time tell you nothing at all. I can imagine very honestly, that on a very personal level, that it's hard for some people to know which jennlevo they are getting. So the case may be that you are in fact, getting all of jenn... and yet you think you're getting layered jenn, you may be slightly disappointed. You may always be thinking that there is more or that there are things I am hiding whilst the opposite is true.

I have never been a fiery personality. My family is not a warm family. We have lots of love and get along swimmingly, but we don't bear hug. In line with my father the most, I avoid drama and I don't yell and argue about things that aren't worth it in the long run. I don't deal with stressors in my life emotionally, I deal with things logically. And yes, this may make me appear to be "emotionally distant"... but I just process on another level. I feel so much and yet at the same time, show so little. I always admired people who were strong and cool under pressure, the Scandinavian ideal. I always wished for these attributes in myself and well... I guess I got my wish. In fact, the irony of the situation is that these things were used against me, my achilles heel. One would think we could all use less drama in our lives right? That these would be ideal attributes in a partner... and well, I was cut because I didn't create enough drama.

But the thing is I will never be fiery, I can work on expressing my feelings more... yes. But the fact of the matter is I am who I am, and I am happy with the person I am. There is so much talk out there about people finding themselves, when the truth of the matter is you actually have to CREATE yourself. You could spend your life looking in every nook, every cranny, under every rock and in every relationship trying to find yourself, trying on different coats to see which one suits you best. And if you go that route, you will waste your life, you will never really be satisfied, you will only put on the coats that you come across. I think the secret to knowing who you really are is learning how to make the coat that fits you best. Of course it takes time to gather all the material, to learn how to sew, to make alterations along the way... but then one day when it all comes together, you realize the coat vanishes and there you are, naked.

Naked but completely comfortable in your own skin. All you have is all you need.

I applaud the need to find oneself, but if you are always searching then you will never find it. I don't want to stand in anyone's way of them becoming the person they were meant to be, but all I ask is that you don't drag other people through the process. Don't drag other people through a dream of "it all working out" only to decide that the coat you found and wore for three years didn't fit. And if you need help making your coat, ask. There are people there to help you along the way. But don't expect them to just know how to help. Everyone's coat is different and different people can help in different ways, but you need to ask for help sometimes.

And at the end of the day, at the end of your life, you just hope that you can find someone who likes your coat regardless of it's color, the wear and tear, and the years of use. You hope that when that person looks at your coat, they don't see a coat at all, no layers, naked... they just see you.

.....

I wrote you messages in the sand and then the waves came and washed them away, as quick as you washed the dreams I had for the both of us away.

2011 Bike Racing Year in Review...

2011-08-22T08:22:00.000-07:00

And just like that, aside from some random PIR's till the end of the month, I am done with a season of bike racing that has lasted since February. Really, I am happy to hang up the road bike for a bit and spend my weekends camping, hiking, surfing, and doing other stuff till cross rears it's muddy head in October. Granted, cross races actually start up next weekend, but I need a break. I know it may seem odd, since I spend so much time on the bike, especially in the summer, but my soul doesn't live on the bike. No, my soul plays in the woods, it climbs the mountains and it floats in the icy cold rivers of this land. And... it's been calling and calling and calling all summer long and I can't just keep not answering. Granted, I've satiated it here and there, teased it with a dabbling of camping and surfing over a weekend, but it needs more. I need more. So, with only a few weeks of summer left till the rains come again - I take off into the woods. Well, I still have to go to work and do other things on the edges, but I vow to get outside come the weekend.

2011

All in all though, I just wanted to re-cap on what a great year it has been since I started racing back in February. Actually, let me just recap on what a great year it has been since I joined Ironclad. Yes, yes... this may seem like such a shameless plug for my team, but really... they are quite awesome. I mean, yeah they race bikes well, but more importantly, they are fun, kind and considerate people. They are folks you actually want to spend time around where it doesn't feel like a chore. It's a team in almost every aspect of the word... something that I was solely missing on my former bike racing squad. And when it comes to bikes, it's nice to show up to a race and have people to race with, not just people that you are competing against. You can lay out a plan prior and actually see it come to fruition. Somedays you do the work, some days your teammates are there to help you. In the end, everyone wins.

On that note, I'd just like to thank my teammates for helping me achieve my two main goals of the season:

1) Winning a month at PIR (I actually ended up winning two back to back months)

2) Podiuming at Crit State Champs (I got second in the Cat 3's)

RACES OF NOTE:

April 2: Cherry Blossom Crit, Cat 3, 4th place
This was the largest field I ever face all year, especially with everyone being in the same Category, there were 36 riders in this one and it came down to a close sprint at the line with me just missing out on a podium by a narrow margin for 4th place. I had podiumed the year prior and really wanted to again, especially since this crit is really the only reason I race the Cherry Blossom Stage Race... but oh well.

July 16th, Ironclad Crit, Cat 3, 1st place
Thanks to Ironclad for scoring Cat3's separately. Once again a narrow 4th place across the line over all, but when it comes to scoring... I'll take 1st for the 3's. It was a fun race with Ironclad leading out the charges on all accounts.

July 30th, Gresham Crit, Sr Women, 3rd place
I've normally hated this race, I have no idea why, but this year it was pretty kind to me. I think because prior I hadn't raced the Franz Crit and now I really do have an appreciation for flat courses. Anyways, early on Bri and Emily got in a break so it was just up to the rest of us to see who'd take the sprint across the line for 3rd. And really, I like these kind of races... the bunch sprint at the end. It keeps it exciting. So, needless to say I played my cards right and came up with the bunch win. Woo!

August 13th, OBRA (Oregon State Championship) Crit, Cat 3, 2nd place.
This was another race where Bri just went for a break off the front with one other person and it came down to a bunch sprint for the remaining places. Anna did a lot of work up front leading me out but Emily had an amazing punch around the last corner and beat me to the line for first. Once again, I was the fourth across the line overall, but when scored separately for Cat3's, I got 2nd, achieving my goal of podiuming at States. check.

And then there is PIR:
8/15: Monday PIR, 3rd
7/25: Monday PIR, 2nd
7/18: Monday PIR, 1st
7/11: Monday PIR, 1st
6/27: Monday PIR, 1st
6/20: Monday PIR, 4th
6/13: Monday PIR, 2nd
6/6: Monday PIR, 3rd

2012
Another goal I had for 2011 was to upgrade to Cat 2, which I think I could do at this point, the jury is still out... but I think I'll hang in there as a Cat 3 through the 2012 spring season since I really have no desire to race the longer milage road race season as a Cat 2 (Cat 3's will race 50 miles, Cat 2's will race 70+). I mean really, I'm just in for the crits which mostly, Cat 3's race with the 1/2's... so there is no difference, but it's nice to know for planning purposes. As well, I can do more to help my other Cat 3 teammates on the road than I can our Cat 2's, and we have some newer Cat 3's that I look forward to protecting and working for come spring. Basically, when it comes to the spring season, I will try my best to work my ass off for you till I get popped off on a hill, get lost, and have some lumberjack take me back to my car.

I think I'll also make it a goal to work on more tactical things and aspects of the sport for 2012 and perhaps, overcome my wariness of doing any race that has an incline in it. I had also wanted to make it out to the track a little more this year, but my need to spend time outdoors and desire to see my friends, family and loved ones on occasion, outweighed the track when it was all said and done. So, maybe next year I'll make it a point to make it to more track events and figure out how to do Madisons.

However, till then I have some camping to do, some cross races to get muddy in, some snowboarding, and some traveling to middle earth... they'll be plenty of time for racing bikes later.

In celebration...

2011-07-14T14:06:00.000-07:00

In celebration of the US Women's Soccer Team's triumphant return to the finals of the Women's World Cup for the first time since 1999, I went to the box of old photos I keep under my bed (you know, from the days before everything was digital) and dug out this photo:

This photo was taken July 4th 1999 at the Semi-Final match of (Norway vs China) World Cup at Foxboro Stadium in Massachusetts. That summer I was working up in Maine as a counselor at a girls summer camp (Camp Tapawingo) and once I figured out that I got every sunday off from camp, I and several of the other staff, bought tickets to the match. At the point of buying the tickets, we had no idea who would be playing, but I was pleased to find out it was going to be Norway vs. China. Several years prior, I had seen Norway play Brazil at the 1996 Olympics and always had a soft spot in my heart for the Scandinavians. So my friends and I all decided that was who we would root for. Plus, seeing a soccer game in Boston on the 4th of July (the WWC match was followed by a New England Revolution match) seemed like a pretty good away to spend the day.

Outside the stadium, I purchased a huge Norwegian flag to help set us apart from all the Chinese fans who seemed to litter the stadium en mass. And really, for the most part it just ended up as us being the only ones on our end cheering for Norway, which meant we had to cheer louder, and harder, and more obnoxious than all the Chinese, which was a hard task. At one point, I told my friends I was going to try to get my photograph on the front page of the Boston Herald.... and sure enough, at one point in the game a photographer waved me down to the field asking me my name. He was a photographer for the Boston Herald! Sadly though, the photo of me never ran as China ended up winning the match (meh) and they ran a photo of a crowd of Chinese supporters instead.

While at this game, the US women were playing their own Semi-Final match against Brazil in California. When it was announced that they had won over the loudspeaker, the whole crowd went crazy! The US women were on to the Final to be played six days later! At this point, all of us hooked on soccer and well, living up in Maine with no internet, no TV and no link to the outside world, we started to get a little nervous of how we were going to watch the game. In fact, game time soon approached and it was everything we could try to do to get find a TV and get it hooked up to watch the game. The unfortunate thing was, it's not like as a counselor you had hours to sit around and watch it. No, you had kids you had to teach and cabins that needed cleaning.

Thankfully though, the game stretched on into the dinner hour at camp and I and a few other counselors were able to sneak away from our table and our duties, and go to the Jr. Lodge to watch. I remember the game going past regulation time. I remember overtime. And then holy hell, do I remember those penalty kicks. I am sure that I was needed for something that evening at camp, but at that point it didn't matter. I was watching history, not only soccer history, but women's history and US history. That final match on July 10, 1999 was the most watched soccer match in US History and come hell or high water, in the back woods of Maine, I'm glad I had enough sense to find a way to watch it.

Since that evening, since that final PK by Brandi Chastain, US soccer has had trouble keeping the momentum. Sure, those ladies from the 1999 Team became household names and helped spurn on a whole new generation of fans and soccer players (some of whom are now those ladies that make up the US team) but the US as a whole has failed to continue with that dream of 1999. The leagues have faltered and failed, our team had yet to make it to another cup final in ten years, the attendance in the last World Cup held on American soil was low (which was in 2003 - but in all due respect the tournament was supposed to have been held in China and it got moved due to the SARS virus, so low attendance might have something to do with people not knowing it was going to happen? Anyways, seizing the opportunity, I took my mother to see a match at Columbus Stadium for her birthday). Regardless, hopefully all that ambivalence changed this past Sunday when the US beat Brazil in overtime and penalty kicks, twelve years to the day since the women of 1999 did. Hopefully people will find a way to gather around a TV this Sunday for the final against Japan.

Hopefully the names of Hope Solo, Abby Wambach, Heather O Riley and Megan Rapinoe will grace the tongues of US citizens and soccer fans the way those ladies from 1999 did. Hopefully there will be a whole new generation of girls eager to take on the world in future years.

Hopefully though, it won't take another twelve years for that to happen again.

Regardless, I'll be watching that whole time.

Ohio for the Rapture

2011-05-27T12:10:00.000-07:00

To start off... I did not plan to go home to Ohio to visit my family in case the predictions were true that the so called "last days" were ahead of us. No, it just so happened that back in December Sam got a wedding invite from a friend for a wedding in Northern Ohio. Sam really wanted to go to the wedding, so I thought it was the perfect opportunity to combine that with a visit to the homeland in a time of year that doesn't suck in Ohio (FYI: 2 out of 12 months of the year do not suck in Ohio: May and October. The rest are either too hot or too cold or just plain unattractive.) So, I wrangled down some dates with my folks and coherced my brother David, who lives in Manhattan, to come home that weekend (it was his birthday weekend) too.

I was looking forward to visiting home for several reasons:

Seeing my mom and dad whom I hadn't seen since Colorado in October
Going to a Cincinnati Reds game
Showing Sam the area in which I grew up
meeting my brothers new beau
going to the farm

I was also hoping that maybe it'd be warm enough to where the lightning bugs would be out (we interestingly enough, don't have lighting bugs in the PNW) and that I could also experience a classic Midwestern Thunderstorm (which, we don't have in the PNW either. Yes we have rain, but no storms.)

So flash forward to the trip....

We got in early Thursday morning on the 19th, drove all the way from CVG to Hillsboro. Got up early (mind you our bodies are still on West Coast time) and drove all the way back to Cincinnati to catch a nooner with the Reds. Upon getting our tickets, I walked past a reporter and mugged for the camera. Without fail... the reporter stopped me and asked a question regarding my thoughts on a ticket tax to help pay for the Great American Ballpark. Sam and I gave the man a few bites and then we carried on our merry way into the stadium. We got some decent tickets in left-center field where we were privy to a fair amount of home-run action. Sadly though, most of it was not for the Reds; however, Jay Bruce did hit TWO home runs... so I'm not complaining about that. At the end all, the Reds lost the game and moved from first place down into a spot in the rankings that is slightly less desirable. As I speak... it seems to be a steady downward spiral of losses... I guess I have that effect on them.

After the game we head to Fountain Square where we have planned to meet up with my little friend Emily. I say "little friend Emily" to distinguish from my other friends named Emily who are not so little or so young, but I forget that Emily is not so little anymore. It's not that she gained a bunch of weight or anything... but she just finished her Freshman year of college. Regardless, in my mind she will forever always be my little friend Emily... I just won't call her that in public anymore. Anyways, LFE (little friend emily) and I go way back... and it was nice to catch up and talk about her school and everything over some affordably priced apps and horrible beers at McCormick and Schmicks.

Which brings me to something else I hate about the midwest (aside from 10 months out of the year that I mentioned prior)... they have horrible beer selection at most bars and grocery stores. If you want a pint on draft, it's going to be a Budwiser or Miller product. If you want what they consider a "microbrew" you're gonna have to settle for a Sam Adams. Something exotic? Heineken... or perhaps Rolling Rock (because it comes in a green bottle). And yeah... if some place does have a good beer... it comes in a bottle. And, you're gonna have to pay $4 for that bottle, which is about as bad of a rip-off as paying $5 for watered down Budwiser at a Reds game. And, that reminds me of another thing that could use some help in the midwest.... their coffee. Sigh... maybe it's just a user error, but I should teach my dad about water to gind ratio or something. Or, maybe in the future I'll just get them a french press so I can use that when I come to visit? One way or another, before I left Portland I picked up two bags of freshly roasted beans from Stumptown (which, as a traveling tip... not only makes a great hostess gift, but makes your luggage smell like heaven.)

Oh... I degress: upon getting back to Hillsboro after the game and an early dinner, I find a note on my facebook wall from a former classmate of mine who lives in Hillsboro saying "jenn, did I just see you on the local 12 news?" So yes, apparently Sam and I's newsbites made the cut and we appeared on the local 6 o'clock news. How bout that... not even in Ohio for 24 hours and I make the news. Winning.

On Friday we awoke, had breakfast on the back porch (thanks mom for the pancakes and Bob Evans sausage!) and set off for the afternoon to show Sam the farm, lunch at Frisches, and go to the Amish area to gawk at their primitive ways (I kid!). I really enjoyed getting to show Sam the farm and my favorite part about it... the barn. It's so sad how weather and time has taken it's toll on it... what used to be such a majestic aspect of the landscape is now slowly breaking down bit by bit and year by year. Every time I go back home I go pay a visit to the barn and each time it makes me more sad. However, at least it was structurally sound enough to take Sam up into the hay loft and show her the awesome peg construction, beautifully weathered wood, and my great uncles graffiti on the inside of the barn. Mom also showed us all the work that she and dad had been doing to the land and how the blueberries (their new venture) were coming along.

Friday night David and Christopher came into town. We greeted them and had a nice dinner out on the back porch swapping stories and pouring wine.

Saturday Sam and I awoke, got a quick run in, and left for Vermillion Ohio, where the wedding was to be. It was only about a three-so hour long drive, but in that time Sam got to see most of Ohio. From tip to tip, water line to water line. By the time we stopped at a hotel to change clothes and got to the church, we had about five minutes to spare. Sam ran into her friend and our new friends for the weekend and bam... just like that... the wedding started and the wedding was over. Lovely, beautiful, nice flowers, etc. Afterwards we grabbed some food and walked around the lovely hamlet of Vermillion. I am sure I've been to this part of Northern Ohio before... but in my more experienced and well traveled present tense, I'd say that it was a cute little coastal town that reminded me much more of something one would find in Connecticut than in Ohio. Win.

The wedding reception was to start at about the same time as the Rapture... so I figured grabbing wine from the bar at the Yacht club was a good way to start the action and sit back watch the show. Sadly, nothing seemed to be happening, so I started mingling and before you knew it... we had to take our seats, there were toasts, and then dinner was served. After dinner came dancing and after dancing came more dancing. (Speaking of which, did I ever mention how good of a dancer my girlfriend Sam is? Did I mention that the more she drinks the better she is? No? Well then... I guess this will be that moment that I mention it.) All in all, it was a great reception, everyone had a blast and no one disappeared as a part of the rapture.

Sunday it was up early with one slightly hungover companion for the ride back home to Hillsboro. Needless to say, there was not much conversation for the drive. But, I guess that's just what happens when you're as good of a dancer as Sam is. We arrived back home by noon and then were instantaneously whisked away by mom (with David and Christopher) to see some farming action LIVE! Christopher and Sam both got to sit and take a ride around in the large John Deere and learn more about the farming process. Afterwards, we hung around the farm playing on all sorts of outdoor equipment like the deprived city kids we've become. It was a lot of fun and we all really enjoyed ourselves.

Afterwards, we swung through town to pick up some ice cream from UDF and then made our way to Serpent Mound. However, not to long before we reached the great effigy of the prior inhabitants of Southern Ohio, we got stuck in a massive thunderstorm. And when I say massive, I am talking about HUGE ice cube tray sized hail being hurled down from the heavens onto our car. Mom pulled the car off the road and under a tree to try and protect it while Sam had to pretty much restrain me from running outside of the car to examine the approximate size of the hail. I was like a kid in a friggin candy store. SO SO SO excited! (Did I mention that I really wanted to see a classic midwestern thunderstorm?... yeah... I did. :) Anyways, we decided that walking around outside in a storm was nothing we wanted to do, so we aborted the mission and went back home.

Dinner was a great affair that involved the whole family. Sam BBQ'd the chicken, mom made dinner rolls, David and Christopher made guac and asparagus and I sat and drank margaritas, that's called teamwork. It was a feast and afterwards we went for a walk till the rains chased us back indoors. When the rains subsided, we all put on our swim suits and made way for the hot tub. Needless to say, we all slept like babies that night.

Basically, overall, all in all, henceforth, therefore it was a great trip back home. For as much as I make fun of Ohio (and I do), I do love and miss certain things about it. It was so nice to be able to dip into that bag of memories and see the changes and appreciate where you come from and where you're at now. Special thanks to Mom and Dad for housing us and mom for all the tour info, David and Christopher for coming in and being cute and dressing alike, Megan for the great wedding and reception, Meg Berry for being fun, Randy for the John Deere photo ops, and special thanks to Sam for not running away when confronted with a gaggle of Levos. :)

my regrets

2011-05-27T08:50:00.000-07:00

Sorry blogosphere... it's not that I don't love you... I've just been busy and well, nothing much has happened I think since I last wrote.

THE MEH....

I haven't raced my bike much (weather is crap and I am saving myself and my monies for crit season).
I haven't played much softball (weather is crap).
I went to some concerts, but then they got canceled so I drove all the way home.
I climbed half way up Mt. Hood, en route to the summit (a long time goal of mine) but the winds got so fierce... we turned around and went back home.
I've had several friends end up in nasty bike incidents which left them in the hospital for lengthy period of time.
I lost a freelance gig I was pretty excited about.
multiple flat tires
hella long jury duty
I went to a Timbers game and saw the only game they've lost at home.
And well, we're back to taking furlough days at work again... two days a month.
And lastly, I have a crack that mysteriously showed up on the windshield of my suby and is growing bit by bit day by day.

THE OK...

We got some sweet new bike frames thanks to one of our sponsors, Veloforma.
Finally got my full Ironclad kit.
The back deck at the home is looking pretty sweet thanks to Mrs. Fritts.
We now have Hopworks Organic IPA in the kegorator.
I've done some sweet artwork for some upcoming bikey things.
Went home to Ohio to see the family and show Sam the homeland (post to follow)
The Rapture didn't happen.
Caught up with some old friends.
Sweet Spring Cleaning Sale of Icebreaker stuff (I cleaned up)
I won some free Bogs boots
I won some free Keen shoes
new luggage!
Glee started to get pretty good.
Great Easter dinner with friends... (aka My Oregon family).. ps: there was Honey Baked Ham.
A great furlough day spent at the coast with my dog, reading in the sun and then noshing on some fish n' chips.

So, there you have it. It's not that I don't love you... it's just that there is not much to report on.

And as always... if these blogger posts (or lack of them) are not enough for you, you can always follow me on Tumblr, which is pretty much the real time, live feed, and visual and mental stimulation of what gets me through the day and what I am pondering at most times.

The calamity that is spring season.

2011-04-05T10:38:00.000-07:00

(me... off the back)

Spring Racing:

To some people Spring Season is a chance to show their mettle on the hills, to prove how hard they've been working in the off season, to show up to a race, come rain, snow, sleet or hell (hail) and bring the pain. For me, it's a chance to pay homage to the cycling gods with all the bad luck one could possibly hope for. A sacrifice if you will. Flat tires, crashes, more flat tires, getting lost, getting told the wrong way to go, shifting problems, etc... you name it and for the most part I've had something go wrong in every race I've ever done March through April. Sure, it'd be easy to just swear off racing in the spring time and try to avoid the calamity all together, but I'd rather have those things go wrong at this time of year when I don't really care too much about the outcome, than when I actually do give a shit.

And no, it's just not me and my poor attitude. It'd be easy to look back and say, well... these things are brought upon you by your reluctance to care about road races... but really, the outcome time and time and time again speak for themselves. Maybe it's one of those... if I told myself that "I was good at climbing hills then I'd become a good hill climber" kinda things. But at this point I just choose acceptance. I choose to just donate my money to the promoters in hopes that I'll get a little bit of racing in, that I can donate to my team's overall game plan for a few miles before I get bucked off the back or passed liked cheap chinese food on the hills. I'd rather get the shit storm of back luck out now.

This negative attitude on spring racing season actually helps me keep a really positive attitude in a race (or normally ride as it becomes). Take for example this past weekend during the Cherry Blossom Cycling Classic, it was the last day and the last stage and my team was going for the overall win of the race series. I got bucked off the pack early on because my legs wouldn't allow me to hammer up the hill at the blistering quick pace set by the race leaders, and then when I got to a part where I had an opportunity to catch up, my shifting was not cooperating. I caught up to another rider (Lisa, from Seattle) who had gotten spit out and between the two of us we figured it was just going to be a pleasant 30 some mile ride. Together, we kept a pretty good pace and were able to chit chat back in forth. I learned a lot about Lisa, her cycling history, what she was studying in school, etc... and somewhere between all of it she said to me... "wow, you're like the most positive pleasant person that I've ever ridden off the back with. Most people are like "f*ck this shit, I hate this, f*ck you, g'damn f*ckin hill, g'damn f*ckin bike!" and you're all happy and everything." And my response to her was just a smile.

So together, we rode around the lush orchards of The Dalles, trying to catch up with our race which really, wasn't too far ahead. But, at one point I realized something was amiss... so I asked her... "Hey, when are we supposed to get on the big loop?" (in the Cat 3 women's race we had one small loop and two big loops on the course). "We've been riding on this for too long but all of the Course Marshals have just waved us on and told us to keep going the way we were. Something isn't right here." So as we progressed, we kept asking the Course Marshals which way was the big loop? and, they kept motioning us on saying it's up ahead. Then we realized they must have had us confused with the Cat 4 women who had to do two short laps and one large one. We stopped at one point to get out a map and see exactly where the turnoff was. Lisa is like... "you have a map?" And I looked at her and smiled saying "this thing has been known to happen to me before."

However, by then it was too late. We had done an extra lap on the short loop and had completely been cut-off from our race. At this point, we had to DNF (as in: Did Not Finish) and it pained me seeing how I had already DNF'd twice this season already. Once for the lumberjack incident at Cherry Pie and then a week prior for Piece of Cake when I flatted. Never before in my two years have racing have I DNF'd, but this year it was looking to be the overwhelming trend. Worst thing is, you can't DNF at a Stage Race. If so... you can't continue onto the next stage. And granted, this was the last stage... but they don't even score you in overall General Classification then. It's like you never existed, like all the money you paid to race was just money you gave to a homeless person to spend on booze. Lisa, realizing her day was over too... called her husband (she brought a phone with her, I'll have to remember that for my next road race) told her that we were done, but for shits and giggles we'd be doing the long loop just once to get a good ride in. So, that's what we did.

When we approached the Course Marshals at the intersection who were supposed to tell us to turn, we explained their error to them. "Sorry" they said "it's so hard to tell". Which I can imagine since it looks like brightly colored spandexed rider after brightly colored spandexed rider, and well, we as riders have responsibility to know the course. However, we zoomed past them initially at a pretty quick pace and from a distance, they motioned us onto the wrong course. In fact, I think as we passed them the wrong time I even shouted out "Thanks for volunteering" since that's the kind of nice person I am. I take that back now though, what I should have really said was "thanks for kicking me out of the race!"

So Lisa and I did one full long loop and rode intermixed with the Cat 4 women who were completing their only lap and the Cat 4 men who were close to finishing their race as well. There was a massive gravel climb in this section and then a massive corkscrew descent. Lisa, who was a quicker climber than I, beat me up all the uphills and I tried with all my might to catch up with her on the downs. However, the corkscrew descent was pretty tight and right off the beginning of it I had Cat 4 men passing me through the tight turns. Seeing how they were still racing and I was not, I laid off on my speed to try and not interfere with their downhill. This was kinda hard though. At one point, looking over my shoulder to see if there were anymore men... I caught glimpse of the medic car. I thought the medic car wanted to pass me in order to catch up with the men... but no, it just kept riding behind me, slowly, engine running, creeping around every turn behind me like it was just waiting for me to crash or run off the road. (This also helped my positive attitude for the afternoon.) I was thankful when I finally reached the bottom of the hill and it passed me... speeding off to catch up with the men. Suddenly I felt relieved, I've never ridden with the grim reaper on my wheel before, but I imagine that's about what it feels like.

Within a few kilometers, I came to the finish. As I climbed the little hill I saw my friend Eryn Barker off to the side of the road. I asked Eryn if she knew or not weather the Cat 3 women had come in yet? If they had... I could cross the line and hopefully not... not DNF. However, if they still hadn't come in... I would technically be one of the first women to finish and well... that just wasn't the honest case here. So, this left me with a predicament, do I cross the line or do I not? I had no idea what to do in this situation as no one had ever prepped me for it. I looked up the road and saw Lisa and then asked her what to do. She said they had just told her to cross the line, so... that's what I did. Apparently and understandably, the officials do not care about what happens to little olde riders who get bucked off and lost from the pack.

(it was so pretty out there... did you guys see the horses and that adorable little barn and ... what? no, you were busy? Sorry you missed it. I think I am going to come back out here just to ride this course again for fun. )

So anyways, from this vantage point I could just wait to see how things finished up for my team. It didn't take too long before some familiar Cat 3 ladies roared up the road. The first one was my friend and former teammate Sara Fletcher, and then shortly after there was an uphill sprint battle which my new teammate and friend Brianna Walle won. Basically, with Sara getting the win it cemented the overall General Classification for my other teammate Anna Christansen, who came in third for the final race. When the dust finally settled, Ironclad had killed it... wining the Stage 1 Road Race, winning the Stage 2 Time Trial, not winning the Stage 3 Crit (however, I did come in fourth... but the crit doesn't mean a hill of jack squat in a stage race) and having a good enough placing in the Stage 4 Road Race to keep the competitors at bay. I'm really proud of my team, they (we) all worked really hard and together for the team win... I just wish I could have helped out a little bit more.

(WINNING!)

However, I can smile and say I'm happy my road racing season is over for 2011. From now on it's all crits and track and cross. None of this hill bull shit. Also, I hope that this ends my steady string of bad luck. I hope that I have given the cycling gods enough of a sacrifice that I can sail on clean through the rest of the year. I do know though, that racing can be dangerous and my thoughts and prayers are with fellow OBRA racer Leia Tyrrell as she recovers from a head injury that was received during the Crit in the 1/2 women's field on Saturday night. For as much of my bitching as I do here, it pails in comparison to that kinda of thing. So really, this whole post is a silly bitch fest rant me feeling sorry for myself kinda thing, and for that I am sorry to waste your time. Yes, as well, there are bigger issues for example, people in Japan are still suffering from radiation exposure and they are homeless and cold and hungry.

As for the Cherry Blossom Cycling Classic Stage Race, it's a great event... but the more I do it, the more it becomes apparent to me that I only really like 25% of it, and that's the 25% that doesn't mean anything more than bragging rights. In the long run, I just don't think it's worth the money for me to be disgruntled and fail as hard as I do. I like the teamwork and hanging out with everyone and the challenge of the whole thing... but when your name doesn't even show up on the final general classification because someone told you to go the wrong way, it leaves you feeling a little bitter. But, at the end of the day... you smile, cause the only other option is crying and well, four out of four people admit that crying over a Cat 3 women's race is pretty lame.

(Oh, here's a photo from the only aspect I liked about racing in the CBC, the Crit. I'm here, I placed well... and you can't even see me. I only laugh at this.)

Rivers and Roads

2011-03-31T09:19:00.001-07:00

Every year I do this and every year it never gets old for me. For you the reader maybe, but for me... never. So, by all means please excuse this "I moved to Oregon Spam" to be exactly that, but for any one else... it's more or less the story of me, of independence, of adventure, exploration and knowing that life really could be better. Today is my Independence Day. The day I celebrate four years of living out here in beautiful amazing Portland Oregon. And... to help celebrate, yes... I will drink coffee, yes I will have a beer, and I will also get my library card. That is how I will celebrate!

Also, yesterday I bought a surfboard... so that makes me a little more Oregonian. All I need now is the wetsuit and I'll be set! In case you haven't heard, our coastal waters here are a little chilly. Speaking of which, today is one of the first warmer days in quite a while. However, in true Portland fashion I am layering by wearing a hoodie from a local brewery, Hopworks... whom just celebrated their 3year anniversary yesterday. As well, I am staying true to my Ohio roots by wearing a Cincinnati shirt to celebrate Opening Day for Major League Baseball (which in Cincinnati is a pretty big deal).

And, today I also celebrate four years of my Brandi Carlile video for The Story, for being filmed and being such a big hit on YouTube. You know it's got over 1,856,444 views? If only I had at least, a dime for every view I'd be a very happy camper by now. And that doesn't mean that I'm not currently a happy camper, it's just that I could probably also "afford" a camper... as well as a owning a house! And, in a very fitting move, Sara Ramierz from Grey's Anatomy is singing that song on a special musical episode of the show tonight! Make sure you tune in! Me personally, I'll be carb loading for my massive stage race in The Dalles this weekend. That's pretty Oregonian right? Bike racing.

Oh, and the photo that is posted above is my photo for the Portland Timbers, Portland's newest Major League sporting team (the only other one currently is the Blahzers). This winter they had quite a notable ad campaign that featured everyday Portland residents and soccer fans wielding axes and logging equipment. Even though some people complained that the ads were vague and didn't make sense (who are these people, they aren't even players or attractive models...) seemed to have missed the boat on the whole campaign. Because that's the point. Those people aren't "special"... they're just like you and me. And that's what makes Portland and soccer in Portland so special... especially before the season has even begun, we don't go to the game for the players (who are the players right now anyways?), we go for each other. It's the event, it's the spectacle, you, me... all of us, we are the Timbers Army and we want soccer to be big time in Portland. And it will be. It will be big, just like the ads of the everyday soccer fans suggest. And the people who don't like it... well, I suspect that it's just cause they are Blazers fans. And so, I digress, the second part of the ad campaign was to let people come in and get their "Timbers photo" taken for free. From here, people could download them and use them as profile photos or whatever on facebook. More free advertising for the Timbers. From there, they selected from the thousands of photos, the Top 100. Then, they invited the people to vote on their favorites (more free advertising) to be added on billboards. Results were talied yesterday and well... I didn't win... I didn't expect to, but it was fun to be in the Top 100. In fact, my gf Sam has the photo as her iphone screensaver. We were at a Chris Pureka concert this week and some girl behind Sam leaned in over her shoulder and said... "nice Timbers photo". To which Sam replied... "thanks, it's my girlfriend." Bam... more free advertising.

Anyways, I digress on this whole post in fact! So... to get back to the topic at hand.... yes, moving to Oregon. And here is the spam I promised you:

2010: 3.31.07. It talks about the significance of a certain show I went to go see at Mississippi Studios and what has happened since.

2009: She Flies With Her Own Wings. A condensed story of what brought me out here.

2008: One Year in Oregon Review.

2007: Oregon Trail: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 4.2

(some of the links were not working)

I think next year I should take this day to go climb a mountain or something.... ;)

we need more banjo...

2011-03-02T15:01:00.000-08:00

If anyone has been keeping up with me or my new years resolutions/five year plan for the past few years, you'll notice a few things always seem to pop up. No, it's not work out more... lord knows I should probably work out less... the two items which always seem to pop-up are A) floss more and B) learn how to play the banjo.

While I can't really vouch for how more effective or not my flossing has become, I did make the first step the other week in Plan B), by actually purchasing a banjo - which i figure, is the first step in learning to play one. I've always heard that in comparison to the guitar, banjo's are rather difficult to learn, but I've never learned to play the guitar so I really have nothing to compare it to. I figure that when it comes to learning to play the instrument, that ground zero is probably the best place to learn. And yeah... I really don't know how to read music either, so that's another obstacle to overcome. Maybe by the time we're all said and done flossing everyday may be the more obtainable task, but I'm all about the challenges here.

Just so you know, my only prior musical experience came from Jr. High Band where I played the snare drum. Ideally during this phase in my life I should have learned to read music, but I had a rather poor introduction (since I joined band in sixth grade as opposed to fifth like most of my peers), so because of this, I think I learned most of my songs by memorization, improvisation and twirling my drumsticks. This learning process probably explains why after a year or two in band, I was moved from the drums to the cymbals and then finally to the triangle. By then, I saw the writing on the wall and regulated "playing music" into something I did once... much like show choir. Speaking of which... I will gladly dance and sing at random these days... but if ask me to sing "properly' without changing key, we might have some problems.

Also, I can't overly vouch for why I wanted to play the banjo in the first place... I guess part of it stems from that EVERYONE it seems, can play the guitar and well, the banjo is just a little more obscure (which is so hipster of me, I know). And I'd say the other part of is that I stem from Appalachia, so... it's in my blood if you. The banjo and bluegrass is the music of my people!

While I don't have big plans of learning to play "Foggy Mountain Breakdown" overnight and starting my own bluegrass band, I'm making strides to try and go over some online lessons a few times week in between work and spin classes. Hopefully eventually I'll at least be able to play "Cripple Creek" within a year. And if I can't well... there are always my goals of better dental hygiene (as the fine folks in Deliverance can tell you).

PS: as an interesting side note: I recently told my dad about buying banjo and he told me an interesting anecdote which I had no idea about, apparently, my grandfather had wanted my dad to learn how to play the banjo, and for whatever reason... my dad never did. So, one way or another, it appears as if my Grandfather is getting his wish.

in search of awesome... Hawaii part four.

2011-03-01T15:26:00.000-08:00

Okay, I realized that I haven't yet reported on the rest of my trip to Hawaii. It's not like I went surfing, saw a sea turtle, some random dude said we were cute and bamn... trip over. Far from it in fact. It's just that while we were in Honolulu we were busy going places and doing things and after that... well, the point of the trip was to not do anything. On my itinerary for my Hawaii trip, right after surfing and pearl harbor was scribbled the word "nothing". Meaning, all I wanted to do was sit on the beach, sip some rum, and read some books. And well, that's what we did.

Oh, but aside from nothing... one day we did go sea kayaking off the Windward coast. It was fun but we spent most of our time in the kayaks using them to catch waves as opposed to "see nature" which is what our rental company suggested the boats for. I also found this other sea kayak that was totally emblazoned with Ironclad stickers.

After that, we headed to Malaekahana State Recreational Area, where I had a three night permit for camping (which is in the Northeast sector of Oahu). Happily, The Bus drops you off right outside the front gate. However, by the time we arrived there is was past dark and the park patrol people were locking the front gate. I had downloaded a map of the campsites so that I could tell where we were to pitch tent, but in the dark of the Hawaiian forest, every thing kinda looked alike... so we ventured to where we thought we were supposed to be, marveled at how no one else was there... and set up camp.

This is what we woke up to when we opened our tent in the morning:

Really, I can't complain with that view at all.

This is from the beach, we were about twenty paces from the beach. It was friggin amazing!

After fixing some breakfast we walked around a little bit and discovered where we were actually supposed to be camping. The regular campground was full of tents, people, turned over trash cans, and random chickens. Sam and I looked at each other and begrudgingly decided that later in the day we should probably move our tent to the proper location, but... we were in no rush. First on the list was laying in the sun and reading.

A little after 1:00pm a rain storm rolled in and so Sam and I decided to take the bus up to the fabled North Shore and see what the surfing is really like up there. And, so we did. And so... let me tell you, that shit is big. HUGE and no way in hell would I be surfing there anytime soon. On our day trip to the North Shore we also got some authentic Hawaiian Ice and had some tasty fish tacos at a local mexican place that seemed to be quite popular with the locals. Note to self: it's a good bet that when you're in the tiny surfing capital of the Pacific Ocean and home to some of the best waves in the world, if you local fare and not touristy stuff, do not go to the restaurant with a surf theme.

After picking up some beer and watching some surfing, Sam and I headed back to Malaekahana and made some dinner. Thankfully our tent and everything was undisturbed and so we just decided to wait it out and try to stay in our happy private backwoods camping spot for one more night, as squatters.

The next day was Valentine's Day and so I made Sam a beautiful card in the sand with a stick.

We spent all day hanging out on the beach reading and lounging in the sun. For the most part it was kinda like a private beach. We'd be all alone for most of the day till a random jogger from the nearby town would pass by. Some people would also walk nearby with surfboards, but it wasn't really that ideal of a surf spot so we'd get a little confused when they'd disappear into the distance. Also on that day a random Park Patrol man came by in a 4x4 ATV and angerly demanded to see my permit. I whipped it out and handed it to him. After a little confusion, his demeanor changed when he saw that we actually had the right paper work and then all of the sudden he was happily chit-chatting with us. He informed us that we were not in the right campsite, but told us that just as long as we moved later in the day we'd be okay. So, Sam and I agreed that we would move the site later in the day.... knowing full well that we had no intent on doing so.

So, we sat and read and drank and read and applied more suntan lotion and read and repeated that process all day long. When evening seemed to be approaching, we gather wood for a campfire and decided to cook dinner down on the beach. What followed was a delightful valentine's day dinner with wine and red beans and rice and summer sausage. Sadly though, our evening and kinda the rest of our evening of camping was marred by two random pit bulls that kept hanging around. Sam and I got kinda freaked out by them... but over all it was a delightful little camping spot.

The next morning Sam and I awoke bright and early before the sun at 5:30am to pack up camp in the dark and catch a bus to head south back to Honolulu. Not only did we have a plane to catch that afternoon back home to Portland, but we had booked a surf lesson at the private surf break that we had to catch a boat to get to. So, needless to say it ended up being a three hour long bus ride to get to where we needed to be.

The surf lesson was ho-hum, but both Sam and I rocked all the waves we got and so were were able to leave Hawaii on a positive surfing note and a little extra sun before we headed home to rainy Portland.

Have you ever transcended space and time?

2011-02-21T14:47:00.000-08:00

great day for bike race huh?

This is my race report for Cherry Pie.

You know, I've had so many people ask me what in the hell happened to me (and what's up with the DNF?) that even after writing it down in a coherent readable form, that it still fails to make any sense to me - but here it is.

Cherry Pie is the first race of the season on the OBRA calendar. And, seeing how I cringe at any race over 35 miles (Cherry Pie is 50 miles)... it's one that I normally wouldn't sign up to do by my own measure. I mean, come mid February I'd rather be at the mountain snowboarding and thinking happy thoughts about warm weather racing; however, the promoters for Cherry Pie were offering a CAT 3 Women's ONLY field and not only did I want to support that choice with numbers, but I was excited to race for the first time with my new team, Ironclad. We had at least six girls set to race and we put together a nice little game plan to better our chances of getting one of us across the line first. In fact, I was most excited for this race as it was my first chance to really work a "team strategy". In my prior race history, it was more about surviving and trying to scrap together a decent placing... but here with Ironclad I had a set plan for the race and a finite goal to accomplish.

My game plan for the race was to work really hard and pull a lot for the first 25 miles, in an effort to protect my teammates and wear some of the other ladies out. Basically, it was nice to just focus on 25 miles and not really worry about the rest. If I was able to hang on beyond that I would, but anything over the initial 25 miles was icing on the cake. So, needless to say the first 25 miles of the race I was a crazy biking into the headwind racing fool. I pulled in a lot of places I normally wouldn't and didn't mind wearing myself out for the good of the team cause... well, it was for the good of the team. Going into the first part of the second lap (after my focused 25 miles) I got dropped on the hills (not surprisingly) and then caught up with a chase group that was in hot pursuit of the main pack. As hard as I tried though, trying to organize a productive paceline with the wind and my prior hard efforts taking their toil, I slacked off the back of the chase pack when we hit a set of rollers. Not feeling bad since I had done my job prior, I rode the remaining 18 miles or so of the race by myself seeing the trailing chasers ahead of me pretty much the whole time.

Even though I saw the glistening of bikes ahead of me, I did lose sight of them around mile 45. No worries I thought, I've just got five miles to go and well, since it's a loop course that I've already been through once, I shouldn't have a problem. So, I finished up the rest of the 50 mile race solo. The cat 3 women were the last race of the day so I naturally figured that the finish would be boxing up and packing away by the time I got there... but by the time I got there - there was no one to be found. I knew I had crossed where the finish was - since I had seen the "1km to go" and all the other race signs... but no one was in sight. Shrugging it off as the OBRA folks just being eager to get home, I wearily started to make my way back to the staging area (which was still a few miles away). It was then that I realized I had no idea how to actually get back. When prior we had passed this point I had been in a hill racing haze... so I just rode around aimlessly for a bit trying to look for something familiar, to guide me back the right way. However, the evening was drawing to a close and the sun was dropping lower in the sky. As well, I was tired and hungry and knew my ride was probably waiting for me at the car.

At that point I happened upon a local man who was cutting and loading wood into his car. I stopped and asked him how to get back to the high school and he gave me a long series of directions that made my eyes glaze over. Finally he just asked "would you like me to give you a ride back" and I eagerly agreed. So, I helped him load some wood for five minutes and then we loaded my bike into the back of his beat up Dodge truck. Then, we headed off for the staging area where all of my teammates were worried about my whereabouts. How often can you say in your race report that you helped someone stack and load wood?

So yeah, I got lost... but in my book I got lost after I passed the finish line. What makes me wonder is what in the hell happened to me to for that last quarter of the race? It'd be easy to say... well, you were just really slow jenn... but the interesting thing is that one of my teammates was behind me in the race - and yet... she finished the race across the line ahead of me. In fact, she even said that everyone waited for me at the finish - but I never showed up. My clock and milage had me at 50 some miles and I followed the race course (it was a loop so we did the same thing twice) and passed them same signs twice (most notably the egg place and the fake cop car sign)... but really I have no idea what happened to me.

Yes, I suppose I could have taken a wrong turn in there, but I don't have good luck with ending up where I am supposed to be in the first place. Normally if a wrong turn was the case I'd still be spinning around the greater part of central Oregon as we speak. Basically, my best guess is that I passed into a parallel time dimension between miles 45-51 which caused me to miss the complete official end of the race. Basically, I transcended time, but not space (Huckabee reference) In my book though, I did not DNF. In fact, I pride myself on never having a DNF in a race... it's just unfortunate that no one was there to see me finish. Anyways, quite frankly, I am still puzzled by the whole thing. All in all, it just makes me realize why i love track and crits so much. IE: it's normally pretty easy to remember where you left the car cause you never were more than a half mile away for the whole race. And, this is all the more reason to love Spin class too!

Oh, and in case you were wondering ... the Ironclad ladies killed it. The game plan continued to work even tough I was apparently lost in the woods and Brianna Walle charged up the hill at the finish to place first. It's going to be a kick ass year.

in search of awesome... Hawaii part three

2011-02-18T16:34:00.000-08:00

One of the most memorable parts of my trip to Hawaii this past week was when Sam and I were in Kailua, on the windward coast of Oahu, to go sea kayaking. We were walking towards the beach through a residential area on a busy street to get to the beach to pick our boats up. We both were wearing shorts, tank tops and hats with our bikini’s visibly on underneath. At one point, a local man was crossing our path and as he neared closer to us… his face lit up with a big friendly smile. As he passed by us he said… "you’re AWESOME"… and walked on.

I sqinched up my face and looked at Sam who was herself, just beaming from ear to ear at the remark.

“Huh?” … I said to Sam… “I wonder what was so awesome?” in a vain attempt to pinpoint the awesome.

Sam just smiled and said… “isn’t it obvious?”

in search of awesome... Hawaii part two

2011-02-17T11:00:00.000-08:00

SPEAKING OF TURNING 31...
Speaking of turning 31, in doing research for the trip, I read about a series of articles that Mark Twain had written in regards Hawaii while he was here back in 1866 (at the age of 31). At that time he was on assignment for the Sacramento Union and spent four months writing about ship captains, whalers, missionaries, mosquitoes, thickets of flowers and thousands and thousands of cats. Some of these letters were published as part of his "western travel anthology" called Roughing It. I had wanted to pick the book up to read while in Hawaii, but a last minute trip to Powells to pick up another book which I had ordered a week prior on Amazon for the trip... but had not yet arrived by the time I was set to depart, had me looking over Twain's book. I wanted to read Twain's work... honestly I did... but I did not want to carry another book into the thickets of flowers, mosquitos and cats known as Hawaii with me... so I left it for a later time. However, if any of you are Mark Twain fans...I suggest you read it as I've heard nothing but great things about it for the past 31 years of my life. (PS: In Hawaii I started reading "His Dark Materials" by Philip Pullman, which is a compilation of three books combined in one, most notably the Golden Compass -it was made into a movie staring Nicole Kidman back in 2007-. The movie, by all means was a pretty lame retelling of the story, but the ideas behind it and the characters which were created had me captivated, so... when looking for a book that I could read for hours and hours on end on a soft, sandy, warm beach somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, this was the book I chose.)

PEARL HARBOR

On Friday Sam and I got up early and boarded "The Bus" for cross town transportation to Pearl Harbor. When the thought of going to Hawaii first crossed my mind, the biggest thought aside from surfing that crossed my mind was getting to visit Pearl Harbor. Always a history nut growing up, I had a keen interest in WWII and even wrote a fictional story for a writing competition using Pearl Harbor and the events of December 6th, 1941 as a backdrop. So... needless to say I was more than excited to get to see the site with my own eyes. We arrived in what I thought would be enough time to see everything and leave with enough time to get a half-day of surfing in, but when we went to the ticket window at 11am to get our ticket, the earliest they could give us to catch the boat to the sunken USS Arizona was 1pm. From there it was a 90 minute trip/tour, which put us well into the afternoon and out of the range of surfing. I was mad that I had come this far and had gotten so close to seeing it, only to be dealt with the fact that I had already paid for a day of surfing too. I wanted to be able to have my cake and eat it too... but logicistcal crap was preventing me from doing so. Sam and I sat down on one of the many park benches which lined the displays at Pearl Harbor and talked over our options. I really wanted to go see the USS Arizona, but I also really wanted to surf. Then practically dawned on me... the Arizona is underwater, there isn't much to see in the first place. Realizing this, I took it to be here in this sacred and holy ground as being good enough. And really, you could feel the solemn energy, it was the same as being at Gettysburg or at Ground Zero. You could tell that something big and important happened here and many lives were lost. That was good enough for me.

Pearl Harbor Side Note: So... news to me you aren't exactly allowed to bring in any bags to Pearl Harbor. Which if you've driven there... great, go put your sunscreen and water and rain jacket, etc back in the car. However, if you're like us and took public transportation, the kind security guards tell you that you can check your bags. Seems pretty harmless right? So you go over and there you realize you've gotta pay a fee. Bull shit right? I mean, I totally understand the reasoning and I know our National Parks are in funding danger, but it's also a little bit of an ass-hole move. I mean, what kinda woman who goes to visit PH isn't going to have some bag or purse with them? Men? many pockets and wallets handle that need... but ladies, we normally have bags with us. This is where it comes in handy to travel with a lesbian, preferably one who wears cargo shorts. One fell move... Sam put all of our bagged belongings, even the bag itself (the amazing REI Flash) into her pockets. Bam... eat that Pearl Harbor National Park Bag Bitches!

MINOR OVERSIGHT:

On our way back to Wakiki we were going to quickly change into our suits and then run down to the shop to grab our surfboards and get a few hours in before the shop closed for the day. Which, was a great idea.... providing we could get into our room. It just so happened that there was a lapse in planning and we had booked the condo for two nights, instead of the three (as we were told was the minimum amount we were allowed to stay). So, as you can imagine this created quite a stir when we couldn't get into the room to get to our stuff and try to contact the rental company and Sam's phone was dying. Luckily, everything got sorted out, but it did end up being a minor hic-up in our day and apparently, our planning.

SURF BREAKS:

We learned from the folks that we rented boards from, that Pops surf break is a lot better for the beginner than Canoes. It's not so much abut the waves themselves, but more or less the people who inhabit the break. IE: a lot less ass-holes at Pops. As well, Sam was able to overcome the surfing frustrations of the day before and once again... enjoy surfing. Thank God.

SECOND MINOR OVERSIGHT OF THE DAY

Later that afternoon after surfing and happy hour (which Sam had a much more enjoyable go at it this time around) we walked a mile or so to the local mall to pick up more jet-boil fuel canisters at Sports Authority. See, after tonight we'd be departing for a more rugged and isolated part of the island and camping for the next three nights. I had brought my jet boil as a means of cooking meals, but due to airline restrictions, was unable to fly with the needed fuel canisters. No worries, I thought... I'll just pick some up in Honolulu. So, Sam and I walked into the store and went to the "camping gear section". We finally came to the row with the fuel and there we found, row after row after row of coleman fuel canisters, little green Coleman fuel canisters filled up every row as far as the eye could see and as far as the arms could reach. Back to back, side to side, Coleman, Coleman, Coleman. Upon seeing this, I realized we'd be in luck... if only the jetboil took a coleman fuel canister, which I didn't believe it would.

So I asked a nearby salesman. At first he was like... "yeah, that should work" and then we pressed him and asked him more questions finally he coughed up that he didn't think it would work at all. The funniest thing is that Sports Authority sells jetboils, in fact they had one on hand at that moment for $99; however, what they didn't sell was the fuel to go in them. I asked the salesman if he thought that was ridiculous. He replied that they normally do sell it, but they seemed to be sold out. "Really?" I responded... by looking at the row upon row of green coleman gas canisters... "where do you think they're supposed to go?" - pointing to a small gap right in between the row after row of Coleman canisters. Disappointed, we settled on getting a cheap little backpacking stove with little cheap fuel canisters. Not glamorous and nothing that will boil water in under twenty minutes, but good enough to make some mushy noodles in the backcountry for dinner at least.

in search of awesome... Hawaii part one.

2011-02-16T16:03:00.001-08:00

For those of you who don't know yet... in a spur of the moment too good of a deal to pass-up opportunity, my GF Sam and I decided to take a week-long trip to Hawaii to celebrate not only reaching my 49th State of the Union, but also my birthday, Valentine's Day, and it's friggin February... why in the hell not vacation. In several installments as to not bore the reader but also the writer, I will note some highlights of the trip. This isn't just for you the reader, but also for me since I didn't do such a swell job of that last spring when I went to Sweden and Iceland for a few weeks, I failed on the travel reporting on that one. So... if anyone cares to follow along, here you go.

YEEEAH, IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!

Thursday, my birthday, was our first full day in Hawaii. We had arrived in town (Wakiki) the afternoon prior and had spent the evening gathering provisions and getting our bearings. Thursday we awoke to the bright sunlight outside and went out on the balcony of our condo to have coffee. From there we were going to grab breakfast from the bakery down the street and walk over to Diamond Head for a hike. After polishing off our ham and cheese croissants, we were interrupted by a salesman who was trying to offer us vouchers for free meals to popular local eateries in exchange for going to hear a spcheel about "vacation packages" or something. We knew to be weary of anything he had to say and figured that that was twenty minutes of our vacation that we were never going to get back... but at least the salesman informed us that Diamond Head wasn't open on Thursdays as apparently all Hawaii State Parks are closed on the conivient days of Wednesday and Thursday (go figure). Well... at least we didn't waste an hour walking to the place. Instead, we decided that it was high time that we seek surf.

FINDING SURF

Initially, Sam had found a good surf rental deal online, but when we tried contacting the people... we got no answer and no call back. Thereby, we were considering just having to rent from the folks on the beach. We didn't really want to go that route since we figured those people had the biggest mark-ups, but we also didn't want to spend all of our valuable time walking around. I had suggested that we try to find someone off the main drag as they might have better rental prices, but once again... we were running short on time. So, en route to the beach to be gouged by surfboard rental places, we passed by a window with "surf lessons" painted on it. It wasn't really a store front per-say and to go inside you had to walk up a short set of stairs, but we figured it was worth checking out. And... we're glad we did. We asked some questions about pricing for multiple day rentals and the friendly dudes at the desk didn't really have a set answer... or.... I wasn't happy with the answer they gave us. So, I pulled out the old "well this other guy that we talked to was willing to do this and that for that price...can you do anything like that?" And the two dudes talked it over and finally gave us an offer too good to pass up. As a result, we got two nice 9ft + epoxy boards for two days of all-day surfing for $90 (not too shabby for the tourist hot-spot of Wakiki if you ask me).

We found a nice spot to set our gear out in front of the grand pink Royal Hawaiian hotel and happily paddled our boards all the way out to the "Canoes" surf break. I had a blast. Within no time at all I was catching waves and riding them in and enjoying the warm sun gleaming down upon me. "Wow"....I thought, "what a way to spend my birthday! Here in Hawaii, in my bikini, surfing with my girlfriend and actually catching legit waves"... and then I looked over at Sam, who... in my opinion, did not seem to be enjoying the experience as much as I. In fact, she was getting so frustrated trying and trying to catch wave after wave unsuccessfully, that it was almost painful to watch. Quickly I realized that her frustration took away any good chance I had to gloat about how easy it seemed and how stupidly happy I was. I tried to offer her helpful tips and words of encouragement... but I think they all washed over her shoulders like the slow white frothy waves from New Zealand that we were playing in. From here it was just my role to play supportive girlfriend and keep my mouth shut.

HELLO MISTER!!!

One highlight that I didn't mind sharing with Sam during the Thursday Surfing Ordeal (as I'd like to call it) happened as I was glancing over my shoulder watching for oncoming waves and keeping an eye on Sam. While doing this, I noticed something pop out of the water beside me and looked over to see a giant, pre-historic looking head. My jaw dropped in a stupefied manor... thinking "what the hell..." and then it dawned on me what it was. There, slightly beneath the surface of the water was a giant shell... and inside the massive shell was a friggin huge sea turtle... (probably a yard and half long) and in my mind, just floatin there on the water, like in a Disney cartoon, the turtle popped up to say hello to me. So, I sat there straddling my board with a big grin on my face and kindly waved back to the big guy, thanking him for his birthday wishes before he disappeared under the water again.

DINNER OUT

Later that afternoon there was reading on the beach, sunning oneself (or in my case.... burning.... apparently spray on SPF of 30 needs to be reapplied more often than I thought), more surfing, then more reading and sunning and drinking Corona's by the pool. For dinner, I wore my very most favorite Patagonia morning glory dress because it looks good and it packs like a breeze (sadly it didn't hide my massive sunburn though) and then it was out to see the sunset and set off for the Hula Grill. The Hula Grill was a very nice place, not too stuffy and not too campy either. We grabbed some cocktails at the bar and waited for our table on the balcony overlooking the ocean, to be ready. Sam had a big tall drink called the "backscratcher" which, yes... did come out with a backscratcher, while I resorted to my summertime favorite, the mojito. Our table was excellent, directly overlooking the ocean with nothing else aside from a pine tree and a brightly lit moon in sight, and the food was amazing as well. Both Sam and I got a fish dish and enjoyed them. The waitstaff was friendly and overall, it was an amazing dinner.

From there, Sam and I went back to our condo and drank wine and smoked cigars on the balcony while fireworks exploded in the distance. Overall, it was a good day to turn 31.

It has a name now...

2011-02-04T13:37:00.001-08:00

Sure... you've heard all the names before... FUPA, muffin top, camel toe, love handles, cankles, moose knuckles. Aside from their cute animal-like or something you're having for breakfast sounding names... they have one other thing in common... flab. Excess FLAB.

We can admit that mostly everyone has a little bit of extra skin and fat in places that we'd like to hide. We'd like to not show the world where we deposit our calories and second servings of pie. But we're Americans god damn it and just like we suffer from capitalism, we suffer from excess. We have big SUV's, big box chain-stores, big TV's with flat panels, biggie sized fries and frappes. Luckily, if you're one of the many American's who don't own a pair of spandex - it's easy to just cover up the flab with a pair of baggy jeans or shorts and go about your life, eating twinkies and watching the next episode of Biggest Loser while you shop on line for cute decorative toilet paper covers.

However, if you're one of the afflicted, spandex wearing throngs of society... you've got bigger issues on your hands. Yeah... ideally those who wear spandex should not have fat. I mean, spandex makes you more areo-dynamic and allows you to move in ways uninhibited by normal gravitational pull, right? Which thereby makes you go faster and burn more calories to rid yourself of said FUPA... right? But once again - we're Americans and we can't all be Kelly Ripa and Tom Selleck:

(no fupa there!)

Admittedly most of us, even the spandex clad, have a few pounds we could loose. The thing is when you're supposed to show up to things in spandex... you're naked to the world... your fat has nowhere to hide... (ask any Olympic bobsledder or Super Woman when she's got the monthly bloat).

Even Olympians and Super Hero's have those days....

In fact, thanks to spandex, your fat actually expands and moves into unusual places - places that normal Americans don't have to worry about. Due to this phenomena... we've found ourselves at a shortage of cute names to call our rolls. Namely, the excess roll of flub below our butt. Normally, that skin would ideally gel with your butt or droop down towards the cankles... but in spandex... it's held there... tight to the leg with nowhere to go.

What do we call that area? What do we name that fat?

I throw this suggestion out into the world... biscuit bottoms.

Yes, it sounds cute. Yes, it's related to food. Also... due to the location of the fat... it truly does reside below your biscuit! And... it has not been coined yet! (Go on the internet and do a search for biscuit bottoms and all you see is really, the under side of biscuits. True story.)

nom nom nom

So there you go. It has a name now... feel free to distribute this knowledge freely into the world! You can sleep better at night.

for my dog and best friend...

2011-01-31T12:19:00.000-08:00

Hey there... it's been a busy January thus far (well today is the last day of it actually) but I just wanted to take a few moments to make a special photo post in honor of my dog, Anna, as today I celebrate seven years together. She was actually born somewhere near October 31st, but it's just easier to celebrate it on her adoption day of January 31st rather than on Halloween.

On this day seven years ago, I left my friend Emily's birthday party down in Beaufort, South Carolina to drive out to Hunting Island for a walk. I had been thinking about getting a dog for a while, but the idea was cemented upon seeing everyone and their dogs walking along the beach. So... I decided on my way home to Savannah, to swing by the Beaufort County Humane Society Animal Shelter. There weren't many dogs in the shelter that sunday... but the majority of them (including a big basset hound) were more than excited to see a friendly human and barked with need of attention. All dogs that was, except a small black lab mix who just sat there looking at me with these big brown eyes. Touched by how the dog chose to interact with me.. I asked the attendant to see the puppy.

The four month old puppy and I went out to the yard and had a few minutes together. I looked into the dogs eyes and asked her if she wanted me to take me home, and if she thought that I was the appropriate human for her. She responded with longing and love and in her own little way, said that she was the dog for me. So, I promised to her that I would be the best dog owner I could be for her. I signed her papers, paid my fee and loaded my jeep up with this adorable black puppy. She laid out on the back bench seat and slept all the way home to Savannah while I called my mom to tell her their was a new addition to my household.

First thing upon arriving in Savannah, was to make a run out to PetSmart to get the much needed leash, water bowl, etc. On the way in everyone just made such a fuss over the puppy... but when asked what her name was... I never really gave them a straight answer as she didn't have a name yet. Then, while walking down one aisle to get puppy food, I came across this girl and her mom who also, made a fuss over the puppy. I told the little girl that I had just gotten the dog that afternoon and she didn't have a name yet. The little girl then informed me that she had gotten a doll that afternoon (and showed me the doll) and decided to name the doll Annabelle. I liked the name Annabelle (secretly I had been rolling over naming the dog Anna during the ride home and seeing that the girl had named her doll that, solidified the name for me) and so I asked the girl if it would be okay for me to name my dog Annabelle as well? The little girl's face just beamed with excitement and she went over to tell her mom.

And thusly, Anna became her name.

And thusly, Anna became my dog.

Later that evening I had plans to go to a Superbowl party... and I did go. But as I would do for several years later when the dates fall on the same days... depart early so that I can go home and fix my best friend a nice steak dinner.

Anna likes playing in the snow...

sticking her head out the window...

Going on hikes with me as long as I promise to not take her too high...

and loves looking emo...

my resolutions for 2011....

2011-01-05T11:55:00.000-08:00

2010 in Review in Photos

2011-01-03T15:02:00.000-08:00

Because pictures tell the best stories....

JANUARY: In a new short lived New Years tradition, I throw my halloween pumpkin off a bridge to represent heaving one's burdens and past into the abyss and welcoming a new year. I say this was short lived because while I wanted to continue this trend this past year, my pumpkin died a gruesome death in mid November after a particularly bitter frost.

FEBRUARY 10: 30th Birthday/Winter Olympics Opening Ceremony party! It's not every year that they fall on the same day, nor is it every year that a friend of yours from Australia comes to visit (Emma, the one with the wine next to the cripple in the cast). ;)

FEBRUARY 21: Sam and I celebrate our first Anniversary with snowboarding at Mt. Hood (where we first started going on unofficial dates) and a night at the Mt. Hood B&B, at Parkdale. All I gotta say is... awesome.

FEBRUARY/MARCH: Snowboarding Trip to Mt. Baker, WA with Sam, Amy and Julie... afterwards, Sam had the best fitted pair of snowboard boots ever created for man or womankind.

MARCH: Sam's birthday weekend in Bend, Oregon. Friends, TWO Brandi Carlile shows, snowboarding at Bachelor, hiking at Smith rock and a hot tub... what more could you want?

APRIL: Speaking of Brandi, Miss Carlile played an intimate show at Mississippi Studios and gave me a public shoutout mid set, thanking me for some awesome videos that I had shot there. Which, not surprisingly, was quite possibly the best moment of my life.

APRIL: Podiumed (for the first time) in my biggest race to date, the Cherry Blossom Cycling Classic Stage Race Criterium. Out of 36 women in the Cat 4's, I placed third. Not too shabby.

MAY: Traveled to Sweden to see my family's former exchange student Ulla get married. We also got to see Nikki (one of our other exchange students from Austria). My parents traveled on afterwards to then see Yvonne, one of our other exchange students in Germany. Overall, it was great getting to see some extended family and also spend time with my parents. It was my dad's first trip overseas.

MAY: On my way home from Denmark, I swung through Iceland to check out Eyjafjakkajokull, the volcano which had recently erupted a month prior. Sadly, air was still filled with ash from the explosion which meant that I couldn't really see it, but I did climb on a nearby glacier which was covered with ash from the blast. For the next day prior, everything I ate tasted ashy and my clothes were full of the stuff.

JUNE: Got the track bike built up and customized... levolovevelo fuck yeah!

JULY: 4th of July camping/surfing trip to the Oregon Mountains and Coast with Sam, Amy and Julie surprised us with being about 40 degrees and foggy. We still got some quality surfing in, but we wondered where our summer had gone to.

JULY: Oregon State Champ at last! I won the state in the Match Sprints for the Cat 4 women on the track. I placed 2nd in the 500mm TT by a mere one one hundredth of a second.

JULY: 2nd Annual Tour De Franzia. This event has got to be one of the highlights of my summer... copious amounts of boxed wine, friends in spandex, bikes, crazy contests and one fractured wrist.

AUGUST: Traveled to Reno to see my cousin get married. David made the trip in from Manhattan, mom from Oregon (she was hanging out with me) and Aunt Pat (who just passed at the end of December) from North Carolina.

AUGUST: the happy couple

AUGUST: Right after the wedding in Reno was over I hopped a plane to come back to the Pacific Northwest and help my softball team win some games and whatever it takes to make that happen.

SEPTEMBER: Another happy couple! Our friends Wendy and Natalie tie the knot in Seattle with Bumbershoot raging in the background and a Raise the Roof Brandi Carlile concert the following day. It was an awesome wedding and so nice to see so many friends from all over the country there. Hilarity ensued.

SEPTEMBER: After all the summer sporting was over, Sam and I took some time to get outdoors and enjoy some activities without rules and winners and losers.

SEPTEMBER: We also celebrating moving in together with our very own kegorator and a nice house party.

OCTOBER: Another cousin got married in Denver so Sam and I drove 20 hours to Colorado to see some family, meet up with my parents who brought a pair of seats from the old Cincinnati Reds stadium with them for me to bring back to Oregon. Also, another cousin of mine was brutally murdered in Florida a week prior so it was a good opportunity for family to get together and mourn and celebrate.

OCTOBER: ArtCrank Portland. This is the second year I've been participating as an artist for ArtCrank and every year it seemingly gets better and better. This year I loved seeing so many friends and familiar faces at the function.

OCTOBER: We had a group of friends get together each Tuesday night this fall at our house to watch Glee together. For the Halloween episode, we carved pumpkins, ate chili and enjoyed the episode. For the Christmas one, we even made Christmas cookies. These Tuesday night gatherings have been a highlight of my fall.

OCTOBER: For Halloween Weekend, we (a group of friends) all rented a house at Canon Beach and then drove up to Astoria to participate in the Cross Crusade Cyclocross Race. The race on Sunday was costume friendly, so Sam and I dressed up as Fuck Yeah factory workers in our matching overalls. Pretty much almost every weekend this fall revolved around a cross race. It was my first year racing cross and I can't wait till next year.

NOVEMBER: Wouldn't you know it... I ended up winning another OBRA medal this year! This was in the State Cross Championships for Women's Single Speed. It was a pretty competitive field and a really fun and challenging race.

DECEMBER: A friends Thanksigiving, this is turning into a nice little tradition too... a little friends, a little football and a whole lotta turkey.

DECEMBER: My friends and I celebrated Christmas Eve by climbing to the Palmer Glacier on Mt. Hood and snowboarding back down. It was a great way to start the holidays and also burn off some Christmas Cookies.

Here's looking to a great 2011!!!!

bringing in 2011 the best way I know how...

2011-01-03T14:17:00.000-08:00

This past Friday, New Years Eve, my friends and I went to the climbing gym to work on some bouldering problems and the subject of evening activities came up.

FRIENDS: What are you guys up to tonight?

ME: Um, nothing huge... swinging by Lisa's house to celebrate her birthday and the New Year, but other than that... no huge plans. We might make a nice dinner before hand?

FRIENDS: Yeah... same here, no big plans.

ME: Well, you know.... I did had this crazy idea this morning that we could get up before dawn and drive to Mt. Hood and hike up it to watch the sunrise and then snowboard back down... but um, well.... you know, it's kinda last minute.

FRIENDS: I think that's a great idea... I had that same exact crazy thought actually, but was too afraid to say it.

So, we worked out our plan over the chalk dust at the gym and then polished them up over brews at Laurelwood. Then that evening, we had a nice dinner, went to a birthday/new years party, and then went to bed at 1am... only to get up three and a half hours later, bags packed, snowboards waxed, coffee hot and snowshoes ready to roll.

What follows are photos from the first sunrise of 2011 on Mt. Hood, which I believe, tell the story better than I ever could. Seriously, I can't think of a better way to bring in the New Years than with friends and enjoying the great outdoors... reasons like this is why I love living in Oregon.

Enjoy, and happy new year to you and your loved ones - I hope you made it special!

Best wishes in 2011!

Pre-dawn in the Timberline Parking lot... 7:00am

Ready to roll... 7:15am

ice...

breaking dawn...

Mt. Hood, looking beautiful as always...

me, surveying the scene...

Fritts, Amy, Julie, me, Sam

Fritts and Julie sharing a laugh...

Sam... contemplating...

the clouds start rolling in....

Did I mention the white out?

white out.... it was like walking in a cloud.

good and steeeeeeep....

Anyways... New Years Day, I feel a tradition coming on....

Life is a banquet

2010-12-22T14:45:00.000-08:00

Last week, my Aunt Pat, who was 79 years old and living in Wilmington, NC passed away from unknown causes. Apparently a work man was scheduled to come to the house for repairs and got concerned when she didn't answer the door or the phone. Concerned, he called the cops who then broke into her house to find my Aunt sitting in her favorite chair... seemingly just sleeping.

When I look back at my Aunt and this unfortunate news, I can't really be too terribly depressed. Yes, it sucks that my Aunt is no longer with us, but... looking back on it all, she lived a great life right until the end and hopefully, her passing was quick and painless. If anything, I see this as an opportunity to celebrate my Aunt's life.

You know, my brother and I always referred to my Aunt as "Auntie Mame" because she was such a riot (if you've seen the movie or read the book.... you know exactly what I mean.) Whereas other people her age knitted and collected Hummel figurines, Aunt Pat drank, smoked, met men at the bar, played golf and told inappropriate stories. She really did live life to the fullest and never seemed to slow down. In fact, she carried on right till the very end. I'd like to think that she had a smoke, fixed herself a nice strong drink and then sat down to relax at the end of the day.

I'll always remember visiting Aunt Pat when we were children and she lived outside of DC. This was always a highlight of the summer as it meant getting to eat Maryland crabs, tons of port wine cheese and crackers, visit all the Smithsonian Museums, the National Monuments, and sit out on her balcony watching all the people in her neighboring apartments come and go. I always enjoyed those visits and later when she moved to North Carolina, there were also more crabs to be consumed, but there were also warm beaches to visit and big cypress trees to hang from. With going away to college and then moving to the West Coast, it became fewer and farer between visits, but I made a point to go to my cousins (her granddaughters) wedding in Reno this summer to see her again. As well, just a few days before her passing I marked in my 2011 planner a trip to go visit her on her 80th birthday in April.

So- So long Aunt Pat... may you be remembered with a smile and a laugh always.

"Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death." -Aunite Mame

Oh, and I took your advice Aunt Pat:

These are my day dreams in the winter

2010-11-30T07:34:00.000-08:00

There are some days, especially those in the winter, that when I sit down at my desk and my mind doesn't go straight to the work to be done for the day. I walk into the kitchenette to get some coffee and I look outside, out into the cold damp dark morning. I watch as the working people rush into the coffee shop across the street and the computer monitors light-up in the office windows across the way. It is in these moments that my mind drifts far away from the hustle and the bustle of the city, my mind drifts off towards a snowy mountain pass somewhere. A road with tall, majestic fir trees lining the way; branches laden with snow and slumping towards the ground. Past the road, there is a deep dark snowy woods. A woods that is slowly filling with a soft morning light; going from a muddled navy to a light hazy lavender. There in the woods is untouched powder. It softy blankets the base of the trees, just waiting... waiting for someone to track through it. White, perfect, crisp, silent, still...

These are my day dreams in the winter.

I am not one to dream for Caribbean Cruise vacations filled with snorkeling and sandy beaches. My drinks do not come in coconuts with little umbrellas. My screen saver is not palm trees and crystal blue water. It is the snow, it is the trees, it is the mountains, and it is the cold. And these things I would gladly pass up any tropical vacation for. These are my day dreams, not only in the winter... but in the summer too.

Over the past few weeks a few storms have rolled into the mountains and dumped a fair amount of snow on the slopes of Mt. Hood. This has provided an ample base to begin the snowboarding/ski season and so this past weekend, I partook for the first time this winter. I've been keeping myself busy racing bikes all spring, summer, and fall long... but each time I put on my racing spandex and pull out my bike, I am secretly wishing for the time when I can put it away for a while. I am waiting till it gets cold, till it gets wet, and the seasons change. I've had my snowboarding bag, filled with my base layers, my wool socks, my snowboarding pants and my red parka, packed for the past three months, just waiting. I got my board waxed and edged last month.... just waiting.

I love pretty much everything about a trip to the mountain.

I love meeting my friends in the morning; coffee, breakfast burrito, and snowboard in hand... just waiting for the adventure that the day will bestow upon us. I love the approach, the drive up to the mountain. I love seeing how far away the snow starts. I love passing the Mt. Hood Wilderness sign and seeing cars pull over on the side of the road to put their chains on. I love the trees that line the way, branches heavy with snow. Little cabins nestled in the woods, warm glows coming from inside. I love telling my friends to be quiet for Silent Rock (respect it ya'll). I love the view that comes right after we pass it. I love seeing that first glimpse of the mountain. I love getting our parking spot and then getting out into the cold air in an eager attempt to layer up as quick as you can before the chill from the air gets to you. I love that first chair ride up, hearing the snow... listening for what it sounds like under the skis and boards of those below. I love trying to spot the powder stashes off to the side. And I love love love if it's a powdery day. If the snow is soft and light. I love if I can make it to my favorite little tree sections before they get all run through.

(I heart Jack's Woods)

I love the trees. I am sure that one day they will be the end of me, but I love nothing more on the mountain than a deep steep section of trees. I love plotting my way through them. Connecting the dots, using the trees as markers, swishing left, swooping right, narrowly making it through some trees that are only wide enough for a board, ducking under a fallen tree or a low branch. I love seeing a waterfall of powder under me... the snow becomes fluid, just like me, it cascades below till I catch up with it. More than doing tree runs themselves though, I love the trees because it is here that the mountain seems the quietest. Away from the lift lines, away from the park punks, away from the hill bombing toddlers, here in the woods it is still. Here in the woods I have the greatest connection to nature. I feel a part of the world around me. I honestly wish I could have a tree-run that would last for hours, endlessly boarding down without ever having to stand in a lift line to do it all over again.

But alas... at some point an end of the day has to come and with it, a sobering ride home from the mountain. That's the part I hate the most; leaving, driving, being tired from the exposure and the exhilaration. I wish at the end of each snowboarding day there was a few pints of a nice stout or porter, some pizza, cajun tots and then I'd magically be whisked away to a hot tub, a fireplace and a warm bed... wanting nothing but waiting for the alarm to go off and then do it all over again the next day.

Unlike many, I never listen to music while riding on the mountain - but if I did... it would be this song on repeat. There is just something about it that takes me to a snowy woods... enjoy and happy daydreams yourself.

	Fleet Foxes - Blue Ridge Mountains .mp3

	Found at bee mp3 search engine

Women's CX Single Speed Oregon State Championships and other bike related news

2010-11-22T14:35:00.000-08:00

"SSara Tingey and Jenn Velolevo both got a podium spot in the womens SS cross race yesterday. I saw them both on the course and they were rockin' it! Congrats to both of you and nice work in some tough conditions. Levo did a cool slide out on the tough off-camber section at the top of the course. I didn't see a single person ride that section, although it didn't keep me from trying all day (stoopid!)"
-Joe Santos

Sometimes, it's best to leave the detailed race reports to more simpler formats. If that was the case here, I think Joe summed up Saturday's State Championship races pretty well. But, me being me and this being my blog, I'm going to elaborate just a little bit more.

Going into Saturday's race, I was mainly just stoked that there WAS a Women's SS Category, for the first time ever. Granted, I thought that we'd probably just have at least five women show up on the start line but to my surprise we had one of the largest women's fields of the day! (SS: 15, Beginner: 15, Cat B: 10, Cat A: 12, Master A: 19, Master B:5, 45+:10). And, it was a pretty strong group of women who showed up. Everyone from folks like Sarah T and Anna Christiansen (who race A's), a lot of the B's (who I normally place behind), and some fasters masters ladies. Prior to the race, it was fun standing on the line with everyone who is basically, your cross bike racing peer, meaning, we are all riding the same basic bike. It's a great equalizer, you know that when you're not looking forward to that big hill... that no one else is either. It's gonna be tough for you, it's gonna be tough for everyone. Speaking of hills by the way, this subject got everyone talking about what gearing they were running. While we all had single speeds, we were not all running the same single speed. Looking around and chit-chatting, I realized that I was running way too big of a gear for the "dreaded hill" at Salem HS. Whereas most of my competitors were gearing the mid-to-late 30's, my gearing was up in the 40's. This, I realized, was most likely not going to be too favorable for the race. But, instead of worrying about the fact that I'm going to have to run my bike up the hill, I just accepted it was not my ideal course and that i'd be running with the bike any time the elevation started gaining and my legs started pushing. In that case, I'd just have to make up for it by kicking the shit out of any flat spots where I could sprint and gain ground. I mean, I might as well make my big gear work for me while everyone else is spinning eh? So, that's what I did.

Once the race was underway, everyone shot straight out of the gates and in no time flat, a few people went down and got stuck in the mud. Anna C. seemed to have hit turbo and was out of sight in no time, a bit ahead of me was Sarah T but I still had about three other racers in between us that I figured were going to give me a run for my money. Bit by bit, someone would wipe out on the slippery off-camber. Being an opportunist, I made it past some folks by mostly riding this section with one foot clipped out - that way I could brace myself intentionally and just kick it through most of the time, catching myself when I needed to all the while keeping momentum up. Every time there was a little bit (or a big bit) of a hill, I just did what I said I would do and got off and ran it, conserving energy rather than expending it trying to ride. Luckily the hill wasn't that steep, it was just long and littered with momentum draining bark dust wood chips. As long as you could keep a good pace and stay moving at a quick rate, I figured you could do pretty well.

By the end of the first lap, I was only going back and forth with two other riders, MK from Ironclad and Angela from Hammer. A few times I passed Angela on the flats, but then she'd catch back up to me on the hill. By the mid part of lap two though, I caught back up to her after she passed me on a hill and she was just spinning and spinning and spinning on the flats and gaining no ground. This is where I was glad to be running a big gear as I just flew past. MK at this point was the only rider ahead of me. She was going strong but got caught up a few times in the mucky off-camber where I was able to pass her. For the rest of the race my main motivation was not to catch up with Sarah, who I'd occasionally catch a glimpse of ahead of me, but it was to keep those two other girls off my back. (I've found that not only beer, but paranoia as well is a great motivator). The rest of the race was spent hammering it in sections that I could, looking behind me, bombing down sections where I could, looking behind me, running into tree branches that covered the best lines, (looking behind me) and running up hills. It wasn't till about the third lap when I realized that I was in a medal spot and that there was only one other person ahead of Sarah, which was Anna. Cool I thought, I just have to not freak the frick out and finish strong. I managed to ride the rest of the course pretty clean aside from a big wipe out in the mud section right before the finish. It was one of those where you fall down and you fall through your bike... meaning, you and your bike have to be untangled in order to keep going. It was at this point that I had visions of having to run the bike to the finish and having one of the other girls creeping up behind me turning into a neck and neck bike vs foot race... but no, the bike kept moving and so did I.

At the finish line I happily saw Sarah and Anna there waiting. I got a little confused at first since there were some other racers standing there too, people that normally place ahead of me or at least near to, so I wasn't to sure how I placed at first, but I soon learned that they had been cut from the race a lap before me, so no... I did indeed come in third. Woop woop! As well, there was a nice chunk of time between me and 4th so even if I had had to run it in the end, I still probably would have placed third. Overall, I was stoked to medal in the first ever wmns ss category and happy to do it with my BTV teammate Sarah (who she being a superior mountain biker, I never thought I'd see the day where I was standing on the same podium.) Hopefully, with our strong field and good showing on Saturday, OBRA can make Women's SS a legitimate open wmns category at more cross races next year. Sadly though, I hope it wouldn't take away from the competitive nature of the other women's categories; for example I was a little disappointed in turnout in the Women's B field with only 10 racers. Hopefully, everyone can have their cake and eat it too.

PS: special thanks to Margi who can either predict the future or at least fill my head with self-full filling prophecies. Thanks for helping me believe in myself. :)

(photo by Sara F)

As well, on this note... it's with bittersweet satisfaction that I hang up my BTV kit for the 2010 bike racing season. It's been a good season for me and I've had many enjoyable races and fun times and beers with my Bridgetown teammates. However, when I return to the road in 2011 I've decided to switch teams and race with Ironclad instead. It's nothing personal as I love Bridgetown and it's been a great two years riding with and getting to know them. Most of all, I thank Bridgetown for taking a chance on a kid who came to team rides wearing tennis shoes and had cage pedals. :)

Overall, it's been a great season and a great year. In 2010, I entered in 40 races including road races, time trials, crits, track races and a cross. Which in aside from cross races (where there are 60 some plus riders), I placed in the top ten in all events with a few top five finishes (and a lot of 4th places) as well as one or two podiums. The highlights of the season were probably:

3rd place - Cherry Blossom Cycling Class Stage Race Criterium, Cat 4

1st place - OBRA State Championships, Match Sprints, Cat 4

2nd place - OBRA State Championships, 500mm TT, Cat 4

3rd place - OBRA State Championships, Wmns SS XC

Looking back on that, I am a very very very happy camper and I am really really looking forward to racing with the Ironclad crew net year. However, at the same time I am also really really happy for bike racing to be over for a bit. I am ready for the snow to start falling. I am ready to say good bye to dirt and asphalt for a while and hello to powder and pine trees. Everyone needs some time to refresh and rejuvenate and for that, I go to the mountains. See ya on the road come spring time!

(Speaking of snow, here's a photo of the podium for the Wmns SS on Saturday... who here looks like they just came out of the half-pipe?)

Playing Outdoors

2010-11-18T10:46:00.000-08:00

So, being on a vintage book kick recently (see last post) got me to thinking about going to the library a lot as a youth. It's something I don't do so much anymore because when I do find the time to read, it happens to be magazines that I either buy or have delivered to my house. And, if I really want a book bad enough, I'll buy it or borrow it from a friend. That's just how it is these days. And well, I feel bad... but I've lived in Oregon now for 3.5 years and I have yet to even get a library card. I think that makes me a bad Oregonian. I mean, I have a bike, I snowboard, I try to surf , I have a dog, I recycle, I drink beer, I drink coffee, I go see live music, I even drive a SUBARU! but... I just don't have that library card yet. (Maybe that's what I'll do to celebrate my fourth year. 03.31.11, get ready for it Multnomah County Libraries - it's gonna be raging!)

Anyways, back when I was a youth in Hillsboro Ohio, there was one book that I think I checked out of our library at least 12 times. As some of you may know, as I kid I was obsessed with magazines, especially L.L.Bean. One day while pursuing the outdoors section of the library, I came across this book and fell in love. It was so chock full of information and tips, that it was my go-to source for the outdoors, and well... the fact that it was an L.L. Bean book just made it even more delicious. So.. I did some searching on the internet and found it. In less than two weeks a perfectly good used copy of the L.L. Bean Guide to the Outdoors, by Bill Riviere (published in 1981) showed up on my doorstep.

I eagerly ripped open the package and sat down in my favorite chair to thumb through the pages. Almost thirty years have passed since the book was published and at least fifteen years have gone past since I last read it. So many of the articles like weather forecasting, nutrition on the trail, and where to put your tent still ring true today, but some of their fashion tips I just chuckled at. I mean, in the 90's when I first found this book, fleece was all the rage. I couldn't believe that people actually used to wear wool baselayers and puffy down filled coats. And now well, fifteen years later look at the outdoors and fashion industry, that's exactly what people (ie the urban woodsman) are wearing again.

(the model for this illustration lives in Williamsburg.)

(Always handy for finding your way home from the bar.)

(Axe, bought unfinished from vendor for $30, painted pretty colors and resold for $150.)

(Classic L.L.Bean boots, made by L.L.Bean but now resold by J.Crew for an additional $200.)

Take for example the external frame backpack. Five years ago, people were probably finding them in the the back of their garage and giving them away for free. Now though, a vintage Kelty External Frame pack easily goes for $100 on ebay! And, I don't think those people who are actually buying them are planning on going on large expeditions of scaling Mt. Hood with them. No, they'll probably just throw it on their back, put an extra pair of skinny jeans, a vintage flannel, their iphones, some PBR and tofu in them and walk around Forest Park with their "Best Made" axe and "play" outdoors.

(Where do I put my fixed gear bike lock?)

Anyways, I'm glad I was able to find this book. More than anything else, it's connected me back with a little bit of my childhood and past. There are still plenty of helpful tips in it, but there is also humor seeing how modern-day trends has co-opted some of the icons and the "lifestyle".

To Do List: Rewrite and Reride History

2010-11-18T10:18:00.000-08:00

So, last year I wrote a little bit about a new vintage book I picked up online, The Oregon American Guide Series book from the WPA, first published in 1940. Due to the fragile nature of the book, I really haven't fully delved into it's facts, figures, routes, trips and storied past of Oregon history... but whenever my mind wanders into getting outside and exploring more of Oregon... my mind goes back to this book. As I've said before, I'd love to follow some of the routes suggested in the book and then take photos at the same spots pictured in the book; however, I'd do it all on bike. In proper Oregon fashion. The only problem is, for as much as I enjoy riding my bike... I don't really like "riding" my bike. Truth of the matter is, if I'm on my bike it's probably because I'm racing it (and ideally, in spans of time no longer than forty-five minutes at a time). Learning to ride for long distances for long periods of time is something I'll have to get used to. Maybe, thinking of documenting this trip while riding would be a good place to start.

Anyways, I got out the camera last evening and decided to take some more photos of the book... you know, to keep the fires going. If you are a local cyclist who does enjoy riding for long periods of time and would like to sign on with me to explore some of the routes... I'd love to collaborate with you. Let's discuss.

I'm sold...

2010-11-15T17:00:00.000-08:00

So, it's no big secret that I am a sucker for Scandinavian design. Throw in some clean lines, classic colors, good pricing, practicality and meatballs and you'll find me there. So, it was with eager anticipation that I looked forward to Portland's newest outlet of Northern European yum, with the opening of H&M last Thursday.

Less than two blocks from my office downtown, the lines for H&M stretched around the whole street and around the block. At first I thought people had staked out places on the sidewalk for a Veterans Day Parade (since it was on the same day) but no... it was just a lot of rabid shoppers waiting to be the first in the door. For those of you not familiar with H&M, I'll give you a brief description. Fashionable, affordable and from Sweden. Basically, it's kinda like the IKEA of clothes, but with less meatballs. Actually, H&M (Hennes und Mauritz) was originally founded in 1947 as a womens store (hennes means hers) in Sweden. However, over the years they have expanded their lines to include mens, kids, and juniors and their locations can be found all over any major european city. In the past decade though, they expanded to the US and placed stores all over New York City. (They are actually as ubiquitous in NYC as Starbucks are; however, it's a good idea to visit at least two or three of the stores since they all have "slightly" different stuff.) In recent years, stores have also popped up in Chicago and Seattle and now finally.... Portland.

So, I was looking forward to the opening since anytime I travel to Europe or NYC, I always make a point to stop into a store and try to find something I can't live without. And, because the new store was so close... is actually a pretty dangerous thing. I stupidly thought I might be able to "swing by" during opening day, but all throughout the afternoon, the line just to get into the store still reached around the block. Even on the following day I imagined the crowds to be quite long... so, I waited.

And I waited.

And finally Monday evening after work I decided to make my way over.

And well... it was pretty much what I expected. Standard items of button downs, sweatshirts, jeans, pants, and accessories. If you were looking for a basic item for your work wardrobe you could find it. If you were looking for a new hoodie you could find it. If you were looking for a casual shirt to wear to your friends bbq you could find it. And well, if you ever go out to the clubs you may have even found something that worked. Overall, I wasn't really wowed. I mean, I wasn't expecting much and some of what I saw was pretty much the same thing that was on the shelves in Sweden this summer, but for standard basic items it was pretty good. And yeah, most tops were in that $15-30 range which is pretty affordable for a basic new shirt. I think if you wanted a new coat you could have really made out as they did have some really nice options. As well, I did like their mens selections. I don't often buy in the men's department because the clothes are huge on me, but I love looking. And well, as I strolled through the mens wear I saw a couple of other ladies doing the same. Regardless though, I didn't see anything that jumped out and said "BUY ME JENN, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!" And well, the things I saw that I liked, I realized I already had. For example, I did not need another long sleeve t-shirt, another t-shirt, a pea coat, a button down black shirt, a plaid shirt, or a knit cap... so I walked away empty handed. Satisfied, but empty handed.

What I thought was the coolest thing about the new H&M was obviously, not what they had on the shelves, but the photos they had in their display windows. These, really impressed me. In fact, I was so taken by them that that is the whole reason I decided to write this post... was so that I could share them with you. So, for that I'll give them two thumbs up. Yeah for the gay H&M! I mean, maybe it's just a clever marketing ploy (the gay, you know, is so trendy these days) and maybe these folks aren't really gay... shit... it really doesn't matter. It's implied and well, if you know... you know. ;)

damn... I'm sold.

small rant

2010-11-12T13:54:00.000-08:00

So... the other day a friend of mine sent me an email and said her company was looking for some new design work to be done and she thought I might be interested. Well, always looking for more freelance work, I followed her link to get more info on the project and came across this site, 99designs. And, suddenly I was revolted. I mean, don't get me wrong... I was happy my friend thought of me and passed along word of work - but I think I as a designer, am going to have to put my foot down and take a stance on things like this.

Basically, what 99designs is a website where companies, who are looking for design work to be done, can basically sponsor a "contest". And any designer or artist with some time to spare can take as much time as they want to... and enter the contest. The company then picks the design they like best and 99designs pays the designer for their work. Overall, it seems simple and great for the company. They never have to actually deal with an artist and they have tons of designs to choose from.... all submitted to them for free! On the designer end though... if they win the "contest" - great they get some cash. If they don't win... well.... they get nothing.

Full disclosure here, yes.... I have done some design "contests" and yes, I have won some of them. Most of them have been from small companies who didn't really know any better or I myself, didn't really know better. Or, maybe I just had some work that I had done prior that never saw the light of day and entering it into a logo contest was an easy way to earn a few bucks (in that case I get the last laugh). But what we have here with sites like 99designs, is a company who is basically "whoring out" designers. It's letting small companies who don't know any better or maybe have no idea how to hire a graphic designer, get cheap labor and spec work. It makes us as designers... seem like we are all starving artists who will gladly toil our time and creativity away for the small chance that we might win a few bucks here and there. It treats that small company as if they were the king of the world and if we, as designers, should feel privileged to do work for free. That we are salivating... waiting for bread crumbs that come in the form of the sheer overwhelming joy of the slight opportunity to design a logo for your wedding invitation.

And the thing is.... yeah, some of us are going to do it. Sadly, times are tough... no one knows this more than creatives, we understand, we feel... and we need to put food on the table as much as everyone else. So yeah, dangle a carrot in front of our face and we might grab for it. At the same time, it is killing our profession. It is killing the value that goes into what we do and coming up with a unique and original design catered to each project. It is removing the humanity from the craft. Shit, you might as well be going out and buying clip art if that's all you expect your work to be like.

I don't know if this kinda crap happens in any other industry?

If I want a custom bike, do I have each custom bike builder spend their time and hard earned money creating the perfect bike for me and then I pick the one I like best and then pay them? No. Would you call ten plumbers over to your house and only pay the one that fixed your leaky pipe the best? No... even though you migth want to. Would you have six different architects create and design a house catered just for you and then you decide to pick and pay the one you like best? No. I mean, yeah... a lot of time designers and companies have to bid for work and make proposals... but they are never actually finished products. Usually those things mean that you'll get the job and then get more work from those clients as you work with them, but here... no, it's slam bam thank you mam and don't let the door hit you on the way out. Oh, and maybe here is an extra $5 for the bus ride home.

As well, as a client buying into 99designs, how do you know that you are getting original creative work suited for you? How do you know that artist didn't just pull it off some clip art page? How do you know it's not something they directly copied from someone else? How do you know that you aren't gonna get sued when someone discovers your logo is the same as theirs?

Take for example, this summer one of Seattle's biggest music festivals "Bumbershoot" created a contest so that designers could create a new logo for the festival. When word got out about this, the design community of Seattle went bat shit crazy? People expect this kinda stuff from small fry companies... but from Bumbershoot? A festival that is supposed to be supporting the arts? So... hackles were raised, letters were written and eventually, Bumbershoot admitted they had no idea that people were passionate about the issue, they were just uninformed and didn't know any better and later canceled the contest.

AIGA, the American Institute of Graphic Arts, has a strong stance against "spec work" and even works hard to inform students, educators, designers, clients, and the general public on the risks of compromising the design process. "AIGA believes that professional designers should be compensated fairly for the value of their work and should negotiate the ownership or use rights of their intellectual and creative property through engagements with their clients."

Basically, I don't want to come across wholier than thou - but I am going to have to start putting my foot down about this and informing some people about this because they just don't know. And when I say "some people" I mean you. You out there reading this. I may know you, I may not know you, but you probably have a skill or a trade that I myself cannot do. I value you. I value your education and the time you put into your job and your work because that is what makes you... you. If I hire or ask you to do something, it's because I intend on paying you for what your services and skills are worth. At the same time, I value myself. I value my skills and my time and what makes my work unique, creative and original. Unless you buy me tons of beer (my keg of ninkasi is starting to run low) or I am a friend helping you out because I respect you, I am not going to whore myself and my talents out. I am putting my foot down and saying no. No more free spec work. No more "contests". No more work under the guise of "good exposure". And... even if I have to work at Subway making sandwiches to put food on the table, at least I can go to bed at night knowing that I didn't comprise myself or my peers. I can look at myself in the mirror and then wipe the mustard off the side of my face and eat another sandwhich (from Subway, you know?)

Everything is Free

2010-11-11T17:00:00.000-08:00

You know, I go see a lot of live shows and it's easy in Portland because so many bands and performers make their way through here on their way to Seattle or San Fran... Portland is just a natural stop. As well, if a singer gets a good base of fans here, it bodes well for them since we have so many well versed music appreciators and musicians in our midst. Anyways, I haven't made it out to as many shows this year as I have in years past. I've actually been feeling a little apathetic recently on the live music scene.

And the thing is... I've tried to figure out where this apathy comes from but it's been hard to pin down and find an exact source. I don't know if it's because I've been busy with other things like bike racing or maybe I haven't been really "wowed" by new talent? Maybe its just that some of my favorite artists haven't released a new album this year and so aren't touring? Maybe they are touring but playing the same songs I've heard over and over again? Or maybe it's just because my favorite filming camera broke and I couldn't bare the thought of going to see a show without it?

Or, maybe it's because I've had a list of "favorite artists to see before they or I kick it" and in the past year I've been able to cross off a lot of those artists. Living in Savannah Georgia, I hardly ever got the chance to see artists I liked and so as soon as I moved to Portland - I jumped at any opportunity to see a band I sorta even kinda liked. I mean, if I had heard of an artist and they had at least one song I liked, I went to go see them. And well, when it came to bigger ticket shows... I even coughed up the money to go see them along with a few thousand other people. Most memorable was two years ago when I went to see Bruce Springsteen. Even though I was in the nosebleeds at the Rose Garden (and I never go to see a show at the Rose Garden), it's one of my top ten concert experiences ever... just because, well... it's Bruce F*cking Springsteen!

Or, maybe it's because recently I've been able to have a more personal interaction with some of my favorite performers? Take for example: I for the longest time have love love loved Natalie Merchant (who I consider to be my gateway drug to intelligent music). I listened to Tigerlilly until the tape deck wore out and I had to buy a new one on CD. I went to Lilith Fair to see just her. I drove across state lines in tiny little New England towns so that I could see her again. At every show I went to, I stood there amongst all the other fans and sang along to every song. But, never in my life did I ever think I'd have the chance to meet her until this spring when my "Special Friend Scott" invited me to go see her at Kink FM's Live Performance Lounge with him. After the short set we got to meet Natalie and I'll never forget the moments that followed (nor will I really want to remember it for it was one of the weirdest, most awkward and oh so embarrassing moments of my life that followed).

(Natalie and Scott and I. Don't ask)

As well, if you know me you know that I'm a HUGE Brandi Carlile fan. In fact, I never never never miss an opportunity to see her when she comes to town or has a smaller show up in Seattle. And well, I've had so many great Brandi shows and Brandi experiences in the past years that sadly, I've become a little bit spoiled and a little bit jaded. I mean, I actually have to lower my expectations for each show to be amazing because I don't want to walk away disappointed. But, it's hard and unfair to the band to beat some of the experiences I've had. I don't think anything could top being able to see Brandi in places like Portland's tiny Mississippi Studios (and have Brandi give you a shout out). I don't think anything could be better than Brandi coming up to you at a bar afterwards to say "Hi" and you then proceed to talk with her about the Mayor of Seattle and his pussy cats (also one of the most embarrassingly awkward moments ever). Nothing could ever really beat that. So, it's a weird place to be in for anyone who's seen as many shows from one artist as I have - and well, I feel a little slightly... um well, nonplussed. And sadly, I feel it's best for me to kinda walk away for a bit so I can come back refreshed and excited for Brandi's next work.

Anyways, when I think why I went to so many shows for so many different artists in the first place, I get a big rush of memories in return... exciting memories, non apathetic memories. I think about all my favorite shows, all of my favorite artists, all my friends, and all of the great venues I've been to and subconsciously, I make a list in my head. It's things like that that make me excited to see live music. Stuff like that is what I need to remember.

And you know what the funny thing is, speaking of going to see live shows and favorite shows, if I had to tell someone what my favorite concert was... I don't think I would be able to. That was at least, until last night. Out of all the amazing shows I've seen ONE really stands out. Ideally, there are a lot of things that make a show a "good show". Sometimes its your seats, sometimes its the people you're with, sometimes its things that happened before or after the show that made it memorable, sometimes it's the distance you had to drive to make it worth it. When I remove all those things that I normally attribute to a concert... and I focus on just the performance, just that moment in time, just being there and everything being amazing, one concert without a doubt stands out.

Last night, while seeing Chris Pureka play a cover, "Everything is Free" at Mississippi Studios, I realized that my favorite concert experience ever (no offense Chris) was seeing Gillian Welch and David Rawlings play and sing that same exact song at the No Depression Festival last summer in Seattle. Yeah, I drove to Seattle for the show. Yeah, I went to the show with friends, but while they held their ground on our blanket in the grass, I went to the front. I stood by the stage and I took all the amazingness in. And, you just can't put a price on an experience like that. I personally think Gillian Welch is one of the best singers and songwriters of our time. She has a certain authenticity and timelessness to her voice that you can't replicate. As well, David Rawlings is a friggin beast on the guitar. Watching him play the chords with his fingers... just using the instrument for all of it's god intended full most purpose, is just... wow. Also, there is no show business to their show. There is no rock and roll, no smoke and mirrors, it's just them on stage doing what they do best. Singing songs.

And the thing is, that's the first time I've seen Gillian and probably the last time for quite some time. She doesn't tour round these parts much and it's hard to make it to her shows. But... all that doesn't matter. It's shows like that that remind me that it's the quality of the show that makes the show, it's not the quantity of them that you go to. And, in order to not be apathetic I think that's just what I need to remember.

mad props...

2010-10-28T08:21:00.000-07:00

I give my gf Sam mad props!

Not only has she been racing cross for the first time this year... she's been doing it on a massivly heavy mountain bike. Better yet, all the races she's done so far have been slog fests. Meaning: mud, muck, and glop that makes her bike 10x heavier.

This past weekend at PIR, she was doing really well.... but going into the last lap her chain had a malfunction. She pulled over to the side of the course and fiddled with it for like five minutes before saying f'it... I'm running with it. In this time sadly, the rest of the field still racing passed her. But rather than give up, she started running with the bike... pushing that heavy bastard alongside her for a mile plus.

The last set of barriers were also on a muddy slippery run up. So, not only did she have to haul her bike up this mucky slope, but she had to pick it up and hoist it up over the barriers. Sam may have been the last one to cross the line for the women's beginner category on Sunday, but she wasn't in last place. As well... she gained the love of everyone who saw her tramp with her bike through the sludge. I give her mad props for finishing the race and not just throwing the bike off to the side of the course and look for the closest beer tent. No, she waited till after she crossed the finish line to do that. Way to go babe.

And... Burk Webb made an awesome video of the race last weekend featuring Sam at :42 seconds. It was shot as she lifted her bike over the last barrier and then pushed it up the hill. Her face is priceless...

watch the whole video here:

Cross Crusade Race #4 PIR from Burk Webb on Vimeo.

Top 5 for Fall....

2010-10-27T15:03:00.000-07:00

It's that time again my friends... time for seasonal record playing! Basically, my buds at the Buzz About wanted to know what albums have been getting heavy rotation on my ipod this fall and in no particular order... here they are.

Lissie: Catching a Tiger

This album is the ying to my yang. It's a little more poppy than some of the music I find myself returning to over and over, but I can't help it... I love Lissie. This album is a little different than her earlier releases with some tracks like Stranger having a little more of a 60's swinging vibe. If that's not your jam it may throw you off a little, but don't worry - Lissie comes back into her own with tracks like Bully, In Sleep and When I'm Alone. Overall, a perfectly good album to whittle away the days of pumpkin carving and spiced cider.

Chris Pureka: How I Learned to See in the Dark

Okay okay.... so this album came out late spring of this year, but I can't think of any more time of year when its songs are more apropos than fall, especially with titles like Song for November, Hangman and imagery like haunted barns and sinking ships. This is one album that when no one else is around, I blast at full tilt... letting all the feeling and emotion from Chris's music just seep in. As opposed to her earlier albums, Chris is playing with a full band on this one and it helps adds a darker, more dynamic sound that really pushes a musical threshold doubled with lyrics that can just cut right through you. I could listen to this or any thing Chris has released for that matter, every day and never grow tired of it. Favorite track from this album: Shipwreck.

The Head & the Heart: The Head & the Heart

I first ran across this amazing five piece band out of Seattle last month when they opened up for Fences at Mississippi Studios here in Portland. Normally, the opening band on a bill has the smaller audience... so I was thinking that I could arrive right about show time and stand towards the front with no problem at all. And boy... I was wrong on all accounts. Seriously, the venue was packed for these guys (and gal) and I mean... people came for THEM - it didn't take too long to see why. Bright, poppy, catching, with highs and lows and dramatic climaxes to songs that keep you coming back for more, throw in a florish of instruments and a dash of Americana... and you've got yourself a pretty amazingly new band to delight your head and your heart with. I hardly ever buy a CD at a show... but I loved these guys so much I walked out with their CD in hand. It's been on heavy rotation ever since. My two favorite tracks are: Down in the Valley & Lost in My Mind.

Fences: Fences

To start off, I've been a fan of Fences/Chris Mansfield for a while. Maybe it's because he cut his teeth with the material for his new album (produced by Sara Quin... you know, from Tegan and Sara) for a bit up and down the PNW coast and I saw them pretty much every chance I got. So, to hear the material that I've listened to and watched live come to full fruition on a disc, it's pretty sweet. Especially when you layer in some Sara singing background vocals in songs like: My Girl the Horse. Aside from the song "Girls With Accents" I'd suggest that you not listen to Fences when you want to get pumped for an evening out on the town... it's best to stick with the Lady GaGa for that, but when you want to listen to an album and really feel the music, pop in Fences self titled debut album. Expect to hear a lot more from him.

Band of Horses: Infinite Arms

Granted, their album Infinite Arms came out this early summer, but I've just now recently gotten around to digesting them. Maybe it's the slower pace of fall and desire to listen to more layered sounds, like burying myself under blankets and sweaters to keep out the on coming cold, this album and the whole BOH discography are racking up the play counts on my itunes. My favorite from the new album is: On My Way Back Home.

Cross Crusade #4 - Race Report

2010-10-25T17:06:00.000-07:00

photo by pdxcross...

I've found that in my first short year of racing cross thus far... that I'll come back home and either love it or hate it. And sadly, most of that feeling is regulated to what the course was like. For example, if there were lots of barriers, hills or places of thick mud that required getting off my bike and running with it for a few miles (aka: basically, any thing that required me to get off my bike) I hated the race. On the other hand though, if it was flatter or drier or had less barriers (aka: basically, anything that required me to get off my bike less)... I loved it. And well, the Cross Crusade #4 at PIR fell in to the later category of love.

As one person said afterwards... "This course was all about power" and I totally agree. The places on the course where you had to get off the bike (a massive run-up with barriers in the middle and a concrete platform) everyone had to get off the bike. There was none of that "I love climbing hills so I rule" mentality to the race nor did it favor those who remount quickly. I felt like the course was a great equalizer, it pretty much came down to how quickly you pedaled through the slop and how consistent you were... it came down to riding your bike... not running with it. And for once, I found myself on the winning end of the spectrum. I for the record, am not a tactical rider... I do well when I can hustle and when I can ride my bike, not just steer it. I mean, granted, it's not like I won the race or anything, it's not like I placed top ten or anything... just that for the first time ever I think I passed more people than passed me. And for someone who has been coming in "just well enough to not get cut" at most of my races, it felt pretty damn good. It felt pretty damn good to pass people I normally only see at the start line and then again at the finish. It felt good to hear people cheering for the people in front of me... and then on the next lap - they are cheering for the people behind me.

And yeah, the course was wet - wet and muddy. It rained shit loads before, during and after the race. In fact, there were several pot holes and mud puddles out there disguised as swimming pools. They were so deep that my feet kicked through the water to get a full pedal stroke in. The spray from the water soaking through the back of my kit and filling my chammy with a little flood of moistness (delightful I tell you). My eyes filled up with mud so many times that at points I was riding a little blind, but I figured it was better than trying to clean mud off of glasses. I wiped out once really early in the race, a few folks passed me and I was trying to get back on the horse... but at least I got that "oh no... I am getting muddy!" thing out of the way.

Basically though, I rode my single speed on Sunday like it was a track bike... meaning, I just kept pedaling the whole time. No slowing down, no stopping. I was moving in a positive forward motion with the intent on passing as many people as I could in front of me the whole race. On your left, on your right, in the middle, nice socks, coming through.

It felt good, I had fun.

End story.

It's not about Denver, part II

2010-10-22T16:09:00.000-07:00

Well, if it wasn't about Denver... what in the hell was it about?

Family. Family and the Cincinnati Reds.

You know that part where I said road trips were kinda fun?... well, for the first 10 hours they are. But then, when you realize you've still got 10 more hours of driving ahead of you, you start to get a little discouraged.

I spent more time in the car getting to Denver than I actually spent in Denver. It's pretty sad really.

Luckily though, stopping at New Belgium Brewery in Ft Collins CO helped ease some of the boredom I call Wyoming. Having little sampler of Ranger IPA was like a little silver lining at the end of a long....dull... brown cloud.

Also, who can complain when they have traveling companions as good as these?

So... pretty much long story short... I have a cousin that I haven't seen in ages who lives in Denver and was getting married. The whole extended family was going to be there, including my parents who live in Ohio. When you live in places like Ohio, you start thinking that the whole west is so closely connected and the possibility that someone can just drive... from, I don't know... Oregon to Colorado for the weekend seems like a reasonable thing. So, if you can get that to happen, well... you might as well throw some things in the car to give that person making the long drive to sweeten the deal.

(For example, my mom threw in my Ronald McDonald phone that I won when I was 3yrs old. Thanks mom)

(and my baseball card collection...)

The biggest sweetener though, was a pair of stadium seats from the Cincinnati Reds Crosley Field. My grandparents received them after the stadium was torn down in 1970. While I was growing up and would visit them out in rural Clinton County, I'd see the seats sitting in some back dark corner of the garage. The red C emblazoned on the side let me know they were more than just decorative objects, they were a treasure to my young sports memorabilia collector mind. I'd often ask my grandparents about the seats, but they never really told me too much more than where they were from... which was all the information I needed to fall madly in love with them. So, in my grandparents later years, I made it known to them and my parents... that when they passed... that was the one object I wanted. It's been many years since my grandfather passed in 89 and my grandmother passed just a few years ago while I've been out here in Oregon. When I've gone home since, it's always been via airplane and the thought of getting the seats to me out in Oregon seemed nearly impossible till my mom hatched the idea that we should meet halfway. That halfway point was Denver.

Sadly, it just so happened that this trip happened a week after my cousin (who was an uncle to the Groom) was brutally murdered in Florida while trying to stop people from breaking into his neighbors car. Not only did this trip give my family a chance to share in the joy of a new union, but they also got to grieve the loss of a loved one together.